tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39972725814056823452024-03-06T12:01:59.575-08:00Montana Trout FishingMontana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-44465010849107293872021-03-09T11:48:00.008-08:002021-03-27T08:58:25.806-07:00High Pressure and Hellish Riverbanks <p> If you find that your home waters are exceptionally beautiful and full of wild trout, you may be facing increased fishing pressure over the years as people from all over the world flock your way. There are only so many rivers, and for every new angler that moves to your region, that is one small piece that you'll no longer get to enjoy in solitude, peace, or quiet. </p><p> Where I live, every year there is open comment on how to better regulate the summer madness on the Madison River for example. Outfitters complain that there are too many boats out during prime-time angling mid summer, and that added pressure hurts their business. As Bozeman grows by five thousand residents a year, thats X amount of hikers, anglers, hunters, all showing up at your favorite accesses. Five, ten, twenty years ago (and rarely today) you could show up to one of many rivers and smile as you're the only vehicle pulling up, the happy river awaiting. Nowadays, if you show up to an easy to access, popular trail head or fishing access, you're almost engulfed in a feeling of dread and disgust. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWyGP88nQe04hBZGHdxmBQxdh632NazYDS3EwuUA1j_Uoy2xv1TW2bvFJvUQ2Mr4ySDZwXEWfDu4nhDviSeiupsGXhxbKIgjDDiujeKCvuk7ugfQJRaH2qhIoMprt0uVRyg1LNSWTxirIE/s4000/GOPR0101.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWyGP88nQe04hBZGHdxmBQxdh632NazYDS3EwuUA1j_Uoy2xv1TW2bvFJvUQ2Mr4ySDZwXEWfDu4nhDviSeiupsGXhxbKIgjDDiujeKCvuk7ugfQJRaH2qhIoMprt0uVRyg1LNSWTxirIE/s320/GOPR0101.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p> As an angler, always learning, we have our favorite spots, our honey holes, and they too change as we grow. We have our favorite stretches of river that we think about to get through a hectic day at work, or perhaps a favorite time of day at a certain run on a lazy, quiet flowing stream. Sometimes we go days or years between frolicking around the waters waste deep, but it ultimately calls you back, for reasons unknown, often overlooked. We just know that "we need" that moment of tranquility, or we have the itch to hook a trout on a dry fly, so we head out to our favorite stream on a seemingly quiet Sunday morning, just to pull up and have your whole mood turned upside down as the parking lot has turned into a zoo. Whats a fisherman or lady to do? There are a couple options, some better for some than others, depending who you are and what kind of fisherman. </p><p> Fish the weekdays! If you live in a destination location, you realize that people travel from around the world to experience a day or two, or week enjoying what you have anytime. Vacationers often do not have a set schedule, and are often the ones being guided any day of the week. You can easily avoid where guides take their clients, but I have learned that these are not the ones crowding our rivers. Also its important to point out that most "tourists" do not get out beyond the normal "tourist spots", and they are very easy to avoid. Most locals, hard working folks that know the area and are exploiting for themselves (rightfully so!), have to get out on the weekends. Weekends, beginning in early March have trailheads and river access overflowing with area natives itching to get out to their favorite trail or stream. If you live and work in one of these great places on earth, and you enjoy solitude outdoors, it would be wise to ask your boss to work weekends!</p><p> Get an early start! Most fisherman that want to get the most out of their time on the water like to get out to the river early! Some of the best fishing of the day, certain times of the year, take place between sunup at 10am. Many easy going anglers are going to sleep in, and start fishing much later, continuing to to hit the evening hatches. </p><p> Avoid the popular areas! Sure, your favorite river or stretch may be the most popular, sought after stretch in one hundred miles, that would be a bummer! However, many of the most popular put ins, bridges, access, and parking lots are so overloaded with pressure, that unless you're the first angler to hit it that day, its just not something to pursue with heavy crowds and pressure.. You may be thinking that the stretches with nobody fishing cant be as good as the ones loaded with boats and waders, but that is FALSE! Most of these rivers and streams have thousands upon thousands of trout per mile, trust me, they are everywhere. You can do some things like simply fish these areas during the off season, or early mornings, and may increase your odds of success and enjoyment. </p><p> Fish out of season! It seems that July through August is the busiest time for trout fishing in Montana. Guides are booked everyday, every campground is taken, RV's and campers outnumber commuting vehicles. Mid to late summer is also the nicest time of year and experiences some of the best fishing (although I disagree on the latter, read on). This makes that time of year extremely hectic at the popular fishing rivers, lakes, streams, and accesses. The trout are at their all time most picky when it comes to preference feeding and certain flies. So you have highly pressured, extra finicky trout matched up with extremely high angler numbers and sure that can lead to a nice day sometimes, but for me that's a headache. Some of THE BEST trout fishing occurs when the weather is NASTY. That means mid march till early may, and October-November. During these times you have extraordinarily hungry fish loading up their stores for winter matched up with seemingly nonexistent crowds and pressure. As an ex walleye fisherman myself, I always led with the motto "The shittier the weather, the better the fishing" and "fish dont care if they get wet, they're already wet".</p><p> This one is similar to the previous tactic but one of my favorites! Sure, July to August in Montana is spectacularly gorgeous, and it rarely rains those months. However, any other month of the year is bound to throw some weather your way! Raining on a Saturday? Most easy going anglers are going to stay indoors, or maybe take a drive. Put on the rain gear and get out there for some great fishing. Snowing sideways, might as well get out there and experience the beauty of the gloom on a stretch of your favorite river all by yourself, or with a tail wagging friend. Just remember, the cold, the rain, and the wind will keep half the anglers off the water! Its not a bad thing to schedule a day on Depuy's or head up to the park when the weather is 'subpar' for some of the best fishing experiences.</p><p> Walk at least a mile from the rig! There are things an angler can do during the busy hours on a world class river or stream to beat the crowds and pressure. Just add anyone of the above tactics together, and experience even better odds of solitude! If you show up at an access to your favorite river and its full of people, you better plan on hiking out a ways if you want to experience easy going trout and less competition with people and more with the eagles. I always start AT LEAST a mile from the rig, and see what it looks like from there. Now, don't be surprised when there are a few others like you, escaping the hellish outdoor experience of the once a year fly fisherman and his two misbehaved setters ruining your honey hole, or the hollering and yelling of drunken worm drowners at the boat ramp. Typically once you're this far out from the madness, you can really spread out and slow down, enjoying your time there without the pressure or distraction. </p><p> As more and more people flock away from big cities to smaller, rural western locales, these small rivers and ecosystems will begin to feel the weight. You'll need to walk further and longer to get out there away from people, but this will also open new opportunities for the wanderlusting adventurer. I cant complain or deny my existence here, I am only a ten year resident here in the great state of Montana. These are some tips I learned to beat the crowds and I hope you too can enjoy a moment of peace as things grow and change. Tight lines! -Mike</p>montana trout fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17223720293441624888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-65918507218988562832018-06-04T05:39:00.001-07:002018-06-04T05:39:26.221-07:00Finding the Trout: Beginner Lesson River conditions here in Montana are always changing. During the spring, our high mountain streams transport the snow melt into the larger rivers. This causes a "blow out" period that can last a month or more, making fishing dangerous and sometimes impossible. The period after the spring run-off can be excellent angling however. The trout are hungry after hunkering down while the rivers raged. Summer brings low water, as much of it is used for irrigating crops and the snow-pack running thin. In the winter, water levels continue to drop, making for concentrated pockets of fish. Knowing where the fish are during these periods is critical. During the heavy flows, fish get pushed to the edges of rivers where the current is less resistant. In winter, the low, clear water forces fish into deep calm pools where they can escape from the raptors above. Its a never ending game of change and pursuit, here's my two cents on finding trout year round.<br />
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They say the ideal current speed is around three miles per hour. Foam bubbles are a key identifier of current speed. You'll notice faster water and slower water just don't carry bubbles on the surface. On the outside of a feeding lane the water is rushing fast, but inches next to it, where current meets slower water, bubbles form. The fish love this speed. It gives them enough time to identify and eat insects as they drift down stream plus they can efficiently hold themselves without using too much energy. Remember to always look for the right current speed, this is where the majority of trout lay. We have endless miles of rivers in Montana, so it can be intimidating trying to find where the trout are. I often walk a quarter mile or more between good trout lies. Not all water holds active fish. Get it in your head to remember what the current speed was after each fish is caught and it wont be long before you can easily identify good trout water. I'm not saying that fish aren't in fast riffles because they are, particularly rainbows. You just have to get out there and experiment with what works. I've seen people fishing holes that have nothing in common with trout water. Its too shallow, muddy bottom, not significant enough, or just the wrong time of the year. Don't be that guy wasting your time on water that holds zero fish.<br />
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Just because the rivers are blown out doesn't mean you cant fish. Yes, some rivers get very dangerous but others, for example Hyalite Creek, is still great even when its raging. Finding fish in these waters can be much easier than say, during the middle of summer. During summer the whole river looks decent and fish are so spread out. When rivers are near maximum capacity, still within the banks, fish are concentrated in the slowest moving water. Hyalite Creek is a steep mountain stream with class IV rapids at places. The other day I drove many miles looking for anything other than whitewater. When I found a bend where the river flattened out and slowed down, I also found a ton of trout. One particular stretch I walked had nothing but whitewater, but near the bank there was a small pocket of calmer water. I fished this until I caught three brookies. How easy was it for me to find these fish? Very easy! Making my way downstream I found a gorgeous body of water familiar to every fly fisherman. I could have easily fished this hole for three hours without leaving, and I did. Its so simple, like I said before, the fish are now concentrated in these slow moving stretches.<br />
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I would like to talk about water clarity for a moment, it has a lot to do with where the trout will be feeding. Most people pack up and go home if the river is muddy and visibility is low. They believe the trout wont see their flies and they'll have to put it on the tips of their noses. Well this just isn't true. Obviously if conditions are chocolate milk, and you cant see your hand an inch below the surface, yes its time to probably go home. Around here though, many rivers never turn to chocolate milk. I personally love fishing when the river is slightly high and cloudy, maybe a bit green. It makes the fish feel protected from raptors and other predators. A typical cycle in the summer tends to be on bright cloudless days the big trout hold deep, away from the sunlight. At twilight they feel comfortable to come out and feed. This is the same during cloudy conditions. The trout feel comfortable spending the entire day, even if its bright and sunny, feeding. Also, as fan of the art of high-sticking, I can get much closer without being seen.<br />
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With that being said, I'm going to move into finding the trout during the summer months. It can get blazing hot outside. Just as you wouldn't want to fish below thirty degrees (the fish slow down), It's not the best time to fish when its one hundred degrees. The fish get lethargic as the water temp rises, making them more active at night and twilight. Shallow water is a no-go during the dog days of summer. The fish are deep, often avoiding the warm rays of sunlight. Its a good idea to try the riffles this time of year, many rainbows will be found there. Deep and slow runs, fished with just about any fly works great. Hot days usually means low water, so fish are concentrated within the confines of the river channel. When its hot and there's no cloud cover above, try to focus on the deep holes within the river system. There are often long stretches of shallow, clear water that hold no fish. Its easy to recognize these spots, walk a little further upriver, and you'll eventually come upon a deep hole. Its here that the smart trout will spend their days, hunkered down deep, chasing down nymphs and sculpins that enter their feeding zones. It can often be difficult to reach these fish with the traditional nymph set-up. Use a longer leader, 12 to 15 feet, tapered to 5x tippet, and weighted flies. If you're flies arent heavy enough, simply put on a split-shot or two. Remember, you want to be on the bottom. If you're not detecting the bottom then you need to change your approach so that you are down where the fish are. If fishing during peak daytime hours this should have you covered. Its during low light that your technique should change from the above mentioned during summer months. In low light times, its the lunker brown trout and pig rainbows that move out of the cover of deep water and into ambush mode in the shallows. Its no surprise that big trout are naturally nocturnal. Pack a headlamp and begin your outing an hour before dark. Use large flies like black sculpzillas, mice patterns, crankbaits, etc. Night fishing can be a challenge within itself but is often one of the best times to be on the river. Theres nothing like casting dries to rising fish during a full moon either!<br />
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Fall is one of the best times to fish, if not THE best season. The brown trout have spawning on their minds, along with all fish trying to stock up for the coming winter. Water levels remain low and its still easy to find the fish if you know how to read the water. During the fall you can fish in pretty shallow waters, all day. The photo period is shortening and trout are taking advantage of the cool temps and low light. Large browns will ambush small fish all day long and the usual riffles and holes will produce hungry fish eager to eat your flies. Its during fall that you can throw larger than usual streamers, larger than real life insect patterns, and that crazy Bozangles Betty that you tied a couple of years ago. The feed is on and trout tend to get out of their comfort zones in order to secure a high calorie meal, take advantage of this. Trout will be found in any and all stretches of rivers and lakes during the fall, so find some fishy structure, tie on the right flies or lure and enjoy the action. Keep in mind that egg patterns go hand in hand with early spring and fall. Brown and rainbow trout cant resist the high calorie morsel and will cross water to reach them.<br />
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Where are the trout during the coldest months of winter? You may be the type that puts down the fishing gear when winter arrives and dust off the ski equipment. But, there are still excellent opportunities to fish year round in Montana. Winter can be one of the most beautiful, solitary, and calming time of the year to fish. There's just nothing quiet like fly fishing in the middle of winter on a beautiful sunny day. The fishing can be pretty phenomenal if you have some insight and a little bit of luck. Fish get pretty lethargic during the cold temps of winter. They are less eager to viciously track down a streamer over larger distances and typically stay in a narrow feeding lane, letting the food float to them. Its easy enough to find fish during the winter. During real cold, sunny days, the trout will stack up in the big pools, similar to summer holding patterns. Its during the warmer, overcast days that you can find fish moving out of those holes and into shallow riffles and runs. Small nymphs like #18 pheasant tails, #16-18 lightning bugs, similar sizes disco midges, zebra midges, WD-40s, etc should be fished on light tackle. I use 5x in the winter because visibility tends to be crystal clear, along with lethargic energy levels from trout, thicker tipper is not necessary unless throwing streamer patterns. The winter time can host some pretty spectacular dry fly hatches. Its a midge game so having on hand some small Griffiths Gnats or #18-22 Parachute Adams is ideal. Keep your setup light and simple during the winter, find those winter holding areas and you'll be skipping a ski day at Bridger to head out to your favorite honey hole, and the best part is you will likely have the river to yourself.<br />
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As mentioned above, spring can bring a halt to the fishing in all but a few places in SW Montana. This period is known as the blow out and happens every year, some better than others. This causes the rivers to swell to dangerous proportions, creating low visibility and unfishable currents. After the blowout subsides however, and the fishing picks up pretty good. After a long winter of low angling pressure, than a month or so of zero angling pressure, post blow out means the fish are feeding heavily for the first time since last fall. The rainbows are beginning to think about the spawn and all fish are putting on the calories that were lost while holding over during the winter. As soon as the rivers clear and lake levels settle, one needs to hit the water. Trout will be in all stretches of the rivers now and finding them is relatively easy. Just fish those pools, runs, and riffles with the usual flies it wont be long before you're netting fish. Fly choice is more important during the spring than where you fish. San Juan Worms and spring run-off go hand in hand. Fish are more aggressive during this time of year, a lot like the fall, and will go out of their way to eat your fly. Dry fly fishing can be spotty, as this time of year is known for the higher than usual flows and stained water, which doesn't really have fish looking up. High calorie items just as eggs, worms, leeches, bait fish, salmonfly nymphs, etc will work best. Don't be afraid to use some extra weight to get those flies down deep, and be sure to bring plenty of extras to compensate for more debris floating downstream.<br />
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<br />Montana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-44307041958213103052018-05-26T09:11:00.002-07:002018-05-27T05:58:35.307-07:00Smith River Float 2018<br />
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When my good friend Cody first told me that he drew for the Smith River in early May I declined. After a seemingly longer than usual winter, camping during a cold, wet spring turned me off. It wasn't long after his offer when a news story appeared about a group of Smith floaters who were rather unlucky. They were the third group to float the river this year, and early April trips can be very cold. Waking up to snow on the tent is one thing, but group three woke up to a completely frozen Smith River. Fortunately they were close to a ranch road and were able to get help. That was April 8th. Cody's float was scheduled a full month later but its not uncommon to have snow up into July there. The Smith begins its journey to the Missouri River from the Castle Mountains in South Central Montana. It then winds its way through farm land and cattle country before entering Smith River State Park. Here, the river flows for fifty-nine miles through some of the most beautiful country around. The Smith's highly protected waters are the prize that so many cherish and will travel many miles to float. There are a limited number of permits given each year, via a lottery system, which 6,000 people that hope to draw, only about 1,000 or so will be lucky. It wasn't long before I changed my mind. Several warmer than average days came in mid April and I was itching to kick my cabin fever, let alone in one of this country's most beautiful places. I mean, what was I thinking saying no?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camp Baker morning of the launch</td></tr>
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After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, May 7th was finally here. With my truck loaded full of gear and the raft, I began the two and a half hour drive north to the check-in station at Camp Baker. My plan was to leave Bozeman and show up a night early to reserve an early launch for the group, but by the time I arrived my name was already fifth on the list; apparently, 1 pm the day before isn't early enough! Camp Baker soon filled with nine groups, our group of four being the smallest, all the way up to the bigger groups, with around fifteen people. The scene at camp was a lively one. One hundred people all hanging out in a unique landscape, all there for the same reason. Not one soul had to work for the next five days, and the beer count was already taking a hit. The mood was very chill and relaxing. I was a little worried about tomorrows launch, unsure of what the river would throw at us. Did we bring enough gear? Do we have enough food? Is it going to snow on us? How bad are the whitewater rapids with these high flows? <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ranger discussion at Camp Baker</td></tr>
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After a night of rest it was around seven the next day that Camp Baker came to life. People packing up their tents, prepping for the next days, the clinking of pots and pans and oars and anchors. We all migrated to the ranger station where we had a twenty minute group chat with the USFS ranger. He was great and went over everything we would encounter, such as springs, pictographs, rapids, float gates, etc. I'm glad I took notes because he was saying all kinds of things, rather fast, and nothing is marked on the map except for camps and tributaries.<br />
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At around nine o'clock we had to register our campsites with the ranger. <br />
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We didn't have a clue as to which camps were good, besides the little research we'd done, so sort of took the rangers word for it. Our flotilla was small and because we were all ready to go, we ended up being the second group to launch. We carefully loaded all of our provisions for the next four days into our rubber boats, and there we stood before the raging, chocolate milk colored water that we've been itchin' to meet for months. Our boats packed to the max, hundreds of pounds of gear. I actually wondered if mine would sink while going through the first set of whitewater rapids. Once the last bit of gear was strapped tight to the rafts we ran up to the station to tell the ranger we were ready for his inspection.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last gear check</td></tr>
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He dropped his pen, and with a smile on his face, followed my anxious butt down to the ramp. Without even looking over our stuff, he said "You guys all ready for a good time?", we replied with a nervous "Yeaaaaaaah". It was after this that he said "Alright, good to go, have a good time guys!". I was hoping we were set up with the right gear and weren't launching to our deaths. With the water at record flows, I knew this could be a challenge in my raft, which is much smaller than the regular rafts that float these waters. The first bend didn't send us over a waterfall, or push us against a cliff, and we slowly meandered and tapered our way into more narrow terrain. I thought the first stretch would be a lazy one and that maybe we would slowly transition into a more rugged environment. To my surprised it wasn't but after the first couple miles when the environment began to change into that steep canyon country in so many photos.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first mile on a new river</td></tr>
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It was this first day on the river that we spotted a sow black bear and cub. The mom had a watchful eye over the little one, who was grazing on riverside vegetation, talk about a shore-lunch. They didn't fear us, and watched as we quietly floated by. The day was warm and sunny, the river calm and peaceful. There was a calmness in the air, the smell of pine, the sound of the occasional duck taking off, or a gaggle of geese passing by overhead. There was a sense of wonder as to what would be around the next turn in the river. The current was pushing us at about four or five knots, it was tough to sit back and take it all in.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3luV-t-eoavRJb5CxvhbIWcQAKXtxIzr-uG9X-xMnZIN6T73k-odkNKEvf3ZKpYXM2tDuu9absulXQFkFixlAFkTnjmfhGyfPONFOiSmPA3zmyJkfg-3k-B3OiwfVqTEi73XQyteUI596/s1600/20180508_131915-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="908" data-original-width="1311" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3luV-t-eoavRJb5CxvhbIWcQAKXtxIzr-uG9X-xMnZIN6T73k-odkNKEvf3ZKpYXM2tDuu9absulXQFkFixlAFkTnjmfhGyfPONFOiSmPA3zmyJkfg-3k-B3OiwfVqTEi73XQyteUI596/s320/20180508_131915-01.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sow black bear and cub</td></tr>
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It didn't take long for our life jackets to come off. The Smith gave us a pleasant, welcoming feeling that first day. Stress slowly turned into relaxation and contentment. Both rafts, although heavy, were navigating impeccably through the giant boulders, shelves, and limestone walls. There are few things more calming than drifting effortlessly through a wilderness such as this. Oh how I wish it would never end.<br />
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We made it to our first camp in a hurry that day. We left plenty of room for a longer than expected float, or in case something happened, we wanted to have tents up before dark. It only took us three hours to float the days seventeen miles. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Wgimu64n2qVR01qE2sACeBYADzHHZlDBb9sOKnY7GTqcNqfp4TWAcxWeX9DWn5xWbRRDvYsbdKKmTn8GlDMa0qv7JBhwiXGMIoDpGQsMfomdzOSPtO8e2_Kl5CzAukUUOoudLpvO3dbB/s1600/20180508_170218-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Wgimu64n2qVR01qE2sACeBYADzHHZlDBb9sOKnY7GTqcNqfp4TWAcxWeX9DWn5xWbRRDvYsbdKKmTn8GlDMa0qv7JBhwiXGMIoDpGQsMfomdzOSPtO8e2_Kl5CzAukUUOoudLpvO3dbB/s320/20180508_170218-01.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boat camp Syringa</td></tr>
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Camp Syringa is the name of our camp for the evening. It sits in a quiet part of the canyon, where the water flows slower than most other places. We tied our boats to the provided 4x4s sticking into the grass covered bank. The fire ring is located about twenty yards upstream from the boats and the latrine was a short hike up into the hills behind camp. We set up our tents and began cooking dinner. We would be having elk fajitas. After a full belly we tried to stay awake into dark, but we were beat. It wasn't long before camp was quiet other than the sounds of rushing water and the occasional goose.<br />
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I awoke on Wednesday morning around six o'clock. I made a cup of joe and took a hike with my fishing rod. The rest of the group was sleeping in. I figured it would be a good time to wander around and explore the area. I fished for an hour with absolutely no luck. The water didn't look all that bad really. At times the visibility was around eight inches. Once awake, everyone was feeling pretty energized and we were eager to get on the water. After a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs and biscuits 'n gravy, we consolidated a couple piles of firewood into the rafts, packed our gear, and headed downstream. <br />
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Our first stop on this day was at Tenderfeet Creek. Here we were hoping to find some healthy brown trout in clearer water. We pulled the boats into a small, clear pool of spring fed water. I was less interested in fishing and excited to keep moving down the river. After throwing our lines around for a few minutes and see what we could see, we decided to cut loose. It was near noon and the sun beat down.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pictograph handprints</td></tr>
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We twisted and turned around spires taller than any building in the whole state of Montana. The turns, so frequent, that by the time you maneuvered the boat to avoid the turbulence of one turn, you'd have to turn 180 degrees to set yourself up for the next one. I've never drifted down a river so wide that snakes as tightly as the Smith. A few more miles downriver and we witnessed another black bear. This time we watched as it slid down into the river, swam across, then stood up on both legs before turning and running into the wild lands. I tried to swing the boat around for another pic but he was a healthy bear and quickly disappeared like good bears do. The river here was swift and powerful. We had our first pictograph coming up, where exactly we did not know. Keeping the boat on a good line and away from rocks was taking most of my focus. Lucky I was to see this pictograph, as it was about fifteen feet off the water, in the middle of a fast riffle. There were five red hand prints in a horizontal line, and a quick glimpse was all I could get along with a quick photo. At the time, it was a dismal feeling, floating past them at five knots, but we would soon see many more.</div>
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In the middle of a remote stretch of the canyon there sits an oasis to floaters. The Heaven on Earth Ranch is kind of an odd place. You almost have to see it for yourself. We had read about it beforehand and thought we may stop for a drink, or round of golf. Yes, there is a beautifully kept nine hole golf course out in the middle of the Smith River Canyon. They are happy to serve rafters free hard drinks but will take donations. You can also stay at one of their many cabins and enjoy a hot shower or soak in the hot tub. "Shall we stop?", Carly hollered. Dark violet and ominous, the clouds besieging us were moving in fast. There was friction in the air. "Can we keep moving?" I yelled back. A nod was given. I think we all had the same feeling.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinalFxK7r0fNPy57HOEOefAX7KZFCTjDmGo2zXN3mleyfWbjLaVDZ6lP6IMepvH4tJkaf8hGII03PS6baBl_PkhCXkps5CsIT5q8SMJncjXf3WPVAnCzakbJHdJUIfIFLzVpNDT1y5hI2Y/s1600/20180509_153858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinalFxK7r0fNPy57HOEOefAX7KZFCTjDmGo2zXN3mleyfWbjLaVDZ6lP6IMepvH4tJkaf8hGII03PS6baBl_PkhCXkps5CsIT5q8SMJncjXf3WPVAnCzakbJHdJUIfIFLzVpNDT1y5hI2Y/s200/20180509_153858.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">spring number two, before the storm</td></tr>
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It wasn't long after the ranch that we stopped to fill our water bottles at a quiet little spring. By now, the sun was gone completely and the sky was ever darkening. An enormous bolt of lightning hit the canyon rim directly above us, thunder instantly rumbled around us. In a moment, our day went from bright and fun to wet and possibly dangerous. While we covered the firewood with tarps we discussed our plans. The rain began to fall hard. "The ranger didn't mention what to do during a lightning storm did he?" I yelled through the sound of rain pelting the water, but I already knew the answer. We couldn't risk losing precious hours holed up under a shelter waiting for it to pass, this thunderstorm could potentially last all day. We tucked our graphite fly rods down low and slowly left our little cove of cover. With our rafts turned and our backs downriver, against the rain we paddled on Water would eventually finding its way into every little dry space on me. Lightning clapping all around us. I sure felt vulnerable during that hour on the Smith. Natures power can make you feel small at times. I felt some protection from the canyon and hugged the walls until we reached our next camp.<br />
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The rain eventually subsided and we made it to our 3rd camp, Camp Crowsfoot. It seemed as we realized there weren't any trees here to hang a tarp for shelter, the rain had stopped. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPruIU_Vj0xl3zI67qC-Amzs1GL3NXLoKfQqOG7-EqH1Rx7_VC74FstywoBYFk0h3bSJMR2DoUQ8pEEw4UGOhqMkJKKIXs_TCb8C2bgzPNXE3T1KhhEDnsKYUZw6KfeHSaQmbB6BcSFub/s1600/20180509_192212-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPruIU_Vj0xl3zI67qC-Amzs1GL3NXLoKfQqOG7-EqH1Rx7_VC74FstywoBYFk0h3bSJMR2DoUQ8pEEw4UGOhqMkJKKIXs_TCb8C2bgzPNXE3T1KhhEDnsKYUZw6KfeHSaQmbB6BcSFub/s640/20180509_192212-01.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evening view from Camp Crows Foot</td></tr>
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We were overjoyed when the sun came out, just in time to set up our camp for the evening. A few more hours of daylight were yet to come, so we hiked a short ways to look at some pictographs that Riley had found. I must say, we had a much better look at these than the previous ones. There were probably twenty that we found.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHqDkt8uX3OJGRr_6xINHolY03QMyD9oQXJY5kXfdOKoO8lvjy-o9_9F1Pcqr65rnnJJFA-1547-blgI2nioXybJQWGFm193Ax98s1Vht6AOfdect_V899trGdadNHIaL-g9F1xCU9myes/s1600/20180509_180818-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHqDkt8uX3OJGRr_6xINHolY03QMyD9oQXJY5kXfdOKoO8lvjy-o9_9F1Pcqr65rnnJJFA-1547-blgI2nioXybJQWGFm193Ax98s1Vht6AOfdect_V899trGdadNHIaL-g9F1xCU9myes/s320/20180509_180818-01.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">several pictographs from Camp Crows Foot </td></tr>
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The cliff face that held these had eroded heavily over the years, putting a few pictographs on large slabs on the ground. I wondered how many pictopraphs have fallen off over the years; it would appear with some imagination, that the whole limestone wall was at one time covered in paintings. We saw paintings of a buffalo hoof, a fox, hand prints of adults and children, finger prints, finger swipes, symbols and many more we couldn't identify. I myself am a huge fan of ancient peoples, and this site was worth the trip alone.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrRdcAJHQyN-R8s_8AdGG6yM2gYZpw5KgFYWCA3Tmgffogye4VyKrg28OFXKw-gUPaOc9r8ayPpItyHPa3DvTR6Rm6RX4eDDjFE6J5UO4Sa4cSvrFW5L7ivCU2uaYCY6EcS0oqQCzIP0KK/s1600/20180509_152556-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrRdcAJHQyN-R8s_8AdGG6yM2gYZpw5KgFYWCA3Tmgffogye4VyKrg28OFXKw-gUPaOc9r8ayPpItyHPa3DvTR6Rm6RX4eDDjFE6J5UO4Sa4cSvrFW5L7ivCU2uaYCY6EcS0oqQCzIP0KK/s200/20180509_152556-01.jpeg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The canyon walls grow taller </td></tr>
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After a much needed refueling of spaghetti dinner, we tried sitting around the campfire to enjoy the natural stadium that mother nature had created around us. I found myself pretty tuckered out after each day. You'd think floating down a river would be easy, but the constant chores of moving camp everyday took a lot out of us. We watched as lightning from another thunderstorm rolled closer and closer to us. The rumbling storm slowly moving our way. It was then, as pellets of rain splashed down around us, we ran to our tents. The wind picked up and lightning was striking nearer. I would experience a rather miserable evening that night. The tent had some weatherproofing issues, and eventually succumbed to the constant saturation of wind and rain. All four corners of my shelter had little rivers, all trying to gather in the middle where I lay inside my sleeping bag. It was difficult to sleep, I was worried about waking up covered in water. The temperature would drop into the thirties at night and I did not want to get wet. Around midnight, fatigue finally knocked me out and to my relief, I woke up halfway dry. I wasn't sure if my tent could handle another night of rains. The next morning we woke up to dry weather, the rain had quit sometime early that morning. We splayed out tents, tarps, and our gear to dry that morning. The suns rays were warm and welcome. We found ourselves getting on the water each day between ten and eleven AM.. Averaging around fifteen miles a day and each day we floated for around three hours, with intermittent stops here and there.<br />
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The canyon walls were at their tallest this day, and within them, there was a 'pictograph cave' that we were on the look-out for. It was river mile thirty-eight we discovered it, high above the river. A small trail came into view around a slow bend. The shore was so steep here that instead of landing the rafts, we had to tie them to trees and let them float. We strapped both rigs together to make a large barge that we used to change into more fitting clothing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgEjNATBSKwnUTYOQYPzQWz6lgeUc5GEkYA4Kms4Upn6YS7GBCKOoPQEjLsVdfQwUXYIvH5w6y79Nmgn0kLIBbY02xnxA9RTMLiYEKfonYJtHrp48jGJ_IILhAPqQ-t3HO5lfaZvcXgsnA/s1600/20180510_143221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgEjNATBSKwnUTYOQYPzQWz6lgeUc5GEkYA4Kms4Upn6YS7GBCKOoPQEjLsVdfQwUXYIvH5w6y79Nmgn0kLIBbY02xnxA9RTMLiYEKfonYJtHrp48jGJ_IILhAPqQ-t3HO5lfaZvcXgsnA/s320/20180510_143221.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riley sits on the shore in front of pictograph cave</td></tr>
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After lacing up some hiking shoes and finding the bear spray, we had a quick snack. We followed the trail to the cave, which we could clearly see from the rafts. Little did we know that this would be more of a challenge than we anticipated. We knew it was a tad dangerous and difficult to reach, but we figured that was a warning for the 'average folks' out there. Riley and I climbed up to the top of the trail. There were about twenty different foot trails forking all different ways. I made several attempts to locate the right path, and each way took me to precarious ledges and drop offs. We scrambled down and tried an alternate route. Riley found me and we explored this ridge to the fullest. It was one heck of a hike be we ended up walking about one hundred feet under the cave without even seeing it, just to climb above and get an amazing view of the Smith. We still had a half day of boating to do and decided we could look no more for this darn cave. With low energy, we climbed several hundred feet in elevation looking for it. There is a sort of illusion that plays out when you're there looking for it. The cave is a lot larger than it looks from the bottom and it throws off your judgement. The ground is pretty sketchy and getting hurt out here, thirty miles from the nearest road, is not a good idea. Defeated, we played it safe and decided to head back down to the river.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhofE_t4W3NTQhhJYDx8IL-kaSinSJ1NBsTlVROKN0Bj1m5d2PWsHz8aD4gej7GJEKkqSJ-raHRvTYNUk_bbPclC63488Ev6p1551uQ_GAfCvHTeN5LZyRpw4kktRWgAM3FKcJPZb-BheDl/s1600/20180510_172524-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhofE_t4W3NTQhhJYDx8IL-kaSinSJ1NBsTlVROKN0Bj1m5d2PWsHz8aD4gej7GJEKkqSJ-raHRvTYNUk_bbPclC63488Ev6p1551uQ_GAfCvHTeN5LZyRpw4kktRWgAM3FKcJPZb-BheDl/s320/20180510_172524-01.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our boats at Upper Ridgetop</td></tr>
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After the cave ordeal, we had about five river miles to go. This would put us in camp between four and five o'clock that afternoon. Our destination was Camp Upper Ridgetop, which sat nestled privately in between two other boat camps along a tight, steep turn in the canyon. The boat landing was directly above a left hand turn that quickly turned into a small whitewater rapid. The sound of the water, the view of a steep canyon wall across the river, and the fact that everything was wet, gave Camp Upper Ridgetop, a rain forest/Pacific Northwest feel. The best part of this camp was that it was surrounded by willows and large Douglas-fers, so it was quite cozy. <br />
A short trail from our boats led to our sheltered camping area. The fire pit sits in the middle of a triangle of three towering conifers trees, and each tent-site is isolated, a few yards from where we would all gather for dinner. It managed to stop raining for the few hours, we set up camp and cooked our dinner. We feasted on elk chili and other snacks on this night. The gang preferred to drink coffee in the evening over beer, I guess we are getting old. Speaking of old; it was the day before Cody's thirtieth birthday! What better way to spend a milestone like that than floating down one of the countries unique rivers, in Montana?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-4oRJs9g2Ud3OrSTgI3-z5LRJUIWuzs3vfbqVwRdwn5G3UwoLhb_CnDGe3a36j0-QiuHT8lJeCI42-mGRn_nkKyVW5qo5atWSXrh4iJejRnYCgYr-LpOLRM5bdpR_M03Ce6wYR9Ly0dM/s1600/20180510_215713.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-4oRJs9g2Ud3OrSTgI3-z5LRJUIWuzs3vfbqVwRdwn5G3UwoLhb_CnDGe3a36j0-QiuHT8lJeCI42-mGRn_nkKyVW5qo5atWSXrh4iJejRnYCgYr-LpOLRM5bdpR_M03Ce6wYR9Ly0dM/s320/20180510_215713.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fun around the campfire, Upper Ridgetop</td></tr>
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After a full belly, we explored our little nook of land. We were completely blocked in by an impassable rock wall to our backs, and across the river, there was narrow corridor of public land, also blocked in from the back. We had "camp deer" in our camp on this day. There were six or seven little mule deer does that had no problem with us being there. With few flat, green areas in this rugged country, this was probably where they spent a lot of time. The scenery here was spectacular. At one point, as it began to get dark, I played a game of flashlight tag with one of our neighbors at the camp upriver from us. They were shed hunting and had climbed way up this large rock outcrop. He would shine his light a number of times and I would repeat it. It was enjoyable, noting they were probably a good half mile away and a few hundred feet up the canyon. This was the only night that we could see and hear our neighbors, not to mention our latrine was about twenty feet from the group below latrine. Besides the close proximity toilets, this was our favorite camp. Its amazing how every mile of river will show you something new, and each camp has its own personality and charm. There are better camps than others, so if you plan on doing a Smith float, research some good campsites, write em down and bring them with you. It helps to arrive the morning before the day you float, to reserve the good sites.<br />
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The rain that night once again determined when we would get into our tents and go to bed. This time, I strategically placed my tent under a large pine tree to avoid as much moisture as possible from the monsoon like rains. I tried to position the tent onto a hump, so water wouldn't pool inside, and I added an additional rain tarp over the original for added coverage. Despite my best efforts, the rains were just too strong and consistent. I was tired during the night that I didn't let it bother me as much, and woke up inside a half soaked sleeping bag. I couldn't believe I still managed to get wet, along with most of my stuff in the tent, that wasn't in a dry bag. It was difficult to get up and pack but there wasn't much else to do. Annoyed that we woke up to a very cold and rainy morning, we brewed some coffee, water proofed our bodies and got to work taking down camp. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Staying dry during the rain</td></tr>
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There would be no stopping the rain from this point on for the rest of the trip. We would have no way to dry all of the gear, so if we were planning on another night, we would have been soggy. We left Camp Upper Ridgetop at eleven o'clock that morning.<br />
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We donned every piece of dry, waterproof material we had. The rain was falling at a steady rate and there was a stiff breeze blowing upriver. We turned our boats and backs to the wind again and held our heads down as we paddled seventeen river miles to Eden Bridge. The terrain turned from mountainous canyons, much like that of the Gallatin Canyon, to a whole new world. Suddenly I felt like we were in New Zealand. There were flocks of sheep grazing in fence-less, wide open spaces. Giant rolling hills of green were shrouded in a thin layer of mist. The absence of roads, telephone wires, fences, buildings, and people, gave the scenery a boost of remoteness. Still, the river making sharp turns every few hundred yards. Black Angus cows dot the landscape along with huge cuts of exposed earth and limestone caves. The pines gave way to small trees here and there with geese still all along the banks. The river began to widen up and slow its current. To make up some time I paddled ahead of Cody's boat and imagined a warm, dry Toyota 4Runner patiently waiting for us at the take out. We passed under a privately owned bridge, which read "Eden Bridge take out 5 miles". I was thinking we were much closer than five miles. After the bridge I entered a pretty large farming operation. Someone was sheering sheep in a huge metal barn. As I silently drifted by, sheep would joyfully run from the barn to regroup with the others. I remember thinking how happy those sheep looked. They do live in a pretty spectacular place. It wasn't much longer after this when I caught up with a group ahead of us, three boats. I was cruising along pretty good, my back downriver; every now and then Id glance back to see where I was going. To my relief, Eden Bridge was much closer than the five miles the sign read. The river narrowed here, braided a few times, I didn't want to miss the ramp. As I made my final turn on this magnificent river, a friendly gentlemen kindly grabbed my throw rope and pulled me in hard against the fast current. We exchanged a few words and I began unloading my gear. About ten minutes later, Cody, Carly, and Riley came down and I caught their rope.<br />
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Eden Bridge has some of the nicest changing facilities I've ever seen at a campsite. I guess this is where part of my floater fees comes in, and I'm more than happy to pay them if this is where it goes. There's dumpsters there to get rid of all the trash we accumulated and a camp host who is happy to answer any questions you might have. From here we loaded both rafts onto the trailer and we began the long drive back to Cascade, down to Helena, Townsend, back over to White Sulphur Springs, then north to Camp Baker. Once my raft was in my own vehicle we made the two hour drive back to Bozeman.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Incredible scenery</td></tr>
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This trip is something I will pursue every year. MTF would like to start an annual Smith River float trip. The more folks we have putting in for the permit, the better our chances. If you'd like to join us, feel free to send me an email. I will post information next year about the upcoming float possibilities. Next time I would like to add one more day to the adventure. Scheduling a layover day would be nice. We had more than enough food. I'm glad I didn't rely on eating fish, I would have been hungry. The fishing was tough. Cody hooked into a couple of trout but there was literally zero clarity in the water. The river is rated as a Red Ribbon stream, which obviously isn't as good as the many Blue Ribbons we have in SW Montana, but still holds some very respectable brown and rainbow trout. Prime time to float the Smith River is May 25th through mid July, after that, the river gets too thin to float in the bigger boats. I would say a beginner could navigate a large raft down the Smith, but you need to respect the river. I also came to the conclusion that I myself would not float a canoe down this river during high water. There are too many heavy currents, pushing water all over the place, up against cliffs, etc. The wildlife was abundant. The myriad of waterfowl was incredible. Baby goslings were with about every other couple of geese, some trying to tag along with our rafts. Birds of prey, bears, deer, elk sign, and plenty of baetis hatches were visible. We were actually rather lucky to see three bears. We talked to a couple other groups, and people that have floated it in the past, and none have had bear sightings. The weather, despite the rain and low thirty temperatures, we managed to stay relatively dry and happy. It can snow every month out there, so its wise to always bring a bag with full winter gear, including the infamous 'goggles'.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from our hike looking for the cave</td></tr>
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<br />montana trout fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17223720293441624888noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-62342512865126111362017-02-28T20:35:00.000-08:002017-03-03T08:11:05.124-08:00Why I Came...Cody is an Oklahoma Transplant,<br />
here for the benefit and the enjoyment of the people.<br />
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A dear friend of mine had grown up North of Hyalite, raised in a red barn school house, and tossed into bear country at a young age. We met working in the hotel and restaurant industry in Oklahoma City somewhere around 2010. We had similar hobbies, like hopping barbed wire and slicing through the briars and woods in search for the farm pond sure to hold large, gullible bass. Although at the time i was throwing a tandem hook imitation worm with spincast gear, little did I know I was well on way may to Montana.<br />
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The apartment I lived in was on a waterway between two small city lakes that had a dam to form a long wide, mostly shallow waterfowl pond, yet in the drainage there was flowing water and bobbers from bait fishermen lined the trees. I left many Rapala grasshoppers hooked into those same trees before learning the art of fishing with a fly. <br />
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I was eventually introduced to the fly, and bought my first fly rod from the world of Ebay. I ended up with a fiberglass antique, and attached, an ultralight spinning reel. I discovered "bubble fly fishing" when I googled "how to fly fish with a spinning rod", and I would catch fish in quantities that left others fooled. My method to "drop" a fly off the swivel and toss the weighted bubble under the edge of overhanging limbs proved fun. WHAMMO! fish on!<br />
Soon I would buy my first fly reel after a trip to bass pro sent me home with the name of a man in New York that carried affordable and reliable gear. I ordered line, and a reel, that has recently been passed along to my next of kin. <br />
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This all led to me throwing Clouser minnows to smallmouth in NW Oklahoma, and then chasing trout on the South Platte outside of Florissant, CO. I proceeded to drive north through Wyoming into Big Sky country after feeling I had proved myself in the South Central Rockies. I spent that week looking at churned water in the Gallatin River runoff, a day below the dam in Bear Trap, and accepting the challenge that I had encountered.<br />
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I pursued recruiters to help me find a job in Bozeman. "Immediate opening" they replied. Within a year I would be driving across the same stretch of Wyoming with a Kayak strapped to the roof and filled with bags of gear. There was a guitar case in my car, full of fishing rods of course. <br />
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I first interacted with Mike through his blog, some time before arriving in the Bozone. He invited me to join him on his most local water. It will soon be a year since I have put down in Southwest Montana. I've had the pleasure of knowing Montana Mike, and am grateful of the privilege to submit content to Montana Trout Fishing. See you on the water! -CodyCody's Creelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13798325729777235855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-91986711759533236492015-09-15T10:44:00.003-07:002016-03-02T06:20:57.097-08:00Carpin' the Big Sky <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carping is a rewarding experience</td></tr>
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One day in the middle of summer, 2015, I sat in my home watching Youtube videos of giant brown trout in New Zealand. The conditions at the time left me without many options for good trout fishing and I was getting my kicks through the lens of some lucky guy thousands of miles from me. From bull trout to bonefish, I found myself being sucked into the dark corners of the internet video world; my rear end settling lower and lower into the couch. Inside my body, the energy was high. My mind was seeing things that would make any fisherman overjoyed. I soon felt the urge to head out and find my own world class angling experience, without topping off the gas tank. Then, somewhere along the way in my mindless video surfing, I stumbled upon a video of a man fly fishing for carp. Now I've had my fair share of experience with carp, but mostly by snagging them with a spinning set-up or randomly hooking one in the lip on a jig. Cursing at them for breaking my line, yet secretly wishing I could have another go. However, since moving to Big Sky country, carp have been the furthest thing from my mind. I did a little research on the subject. With a little luck, a full weekend, and a relentless urge to land one of these beasts on a fly rod, I scored big time.<br />
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Carp have often been ignored by sportsman in the United States as they are considered by most a trash fish, for reasons that remain fair enough. It's not uncommon to see them tossed on the bank or hit over the head and left to die. Most of the time this causes more unwanted waste than it saves but gives a feeling of satisfaction to most that do it. Respect for them is growing ever so slightly in the sates. In the Western states, where trout and carp live together, many guiding companies now offer carp trips. The Missouri River is known for its plentiful carp numbers, and word is spreading about how enjoyable it is. In Europe, carping is one of the, if not the most, popular fish to pursue. There's some good reason to that too. It's the same reason I used to wish for one to gulp down my Mr. Twister back in Iowa, they are the Mac Trucks of freshwater fish! These golden beasts often grow well over thirty inches or more and can reach upwards of 40 lbs. Not only are they incredibly fun to catch, they are also surprisingly difficult. One has to fully commit, completely understand the fundamentals, expect failure, and be able to land a fly in a tea-cup at thirty feet, before anticipating a successful attempt. If you ever thought trout were finicky and are ready for the next challenge, carp are for you.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prehistoric looking</td></tr>
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It's well known that carp generally live about everywhere. It's not hard to find them during the summer if you take the time. Look for large splashes and movement around the shallow western side of the lake, the hotter outside the better. The carp will be in the shallows feeding and sunbathing. It's important to know whether or not the carp you are looking at are feeding. Feeding or "tailing" carp are very similar to bonefish. Both carp and bonefish feed by shuffling around in the mud with the snouts down and tail up. Its not uncommon to see half a carp sticking out of the water as they root around for anything organic. As omnivores, fly selection is pretty easy. Anything that feels like a crunchy, squishy bug will be held in the mouth long enough to make a hook set. I've noticed that carp will suck in a mouthful of mud or sand, and then blow out, holding on to whatever food it finds. Forget streamers or anything big, colorful, or fast moving. One of the more difficult aspects of carping is how easy they spook. After spending some time with these amazing fish you can see how evolution has taken trout and carp down two completely different paths. Carp have been around for millions and millions of years, they have changed little and still retain many primitive traits. All of these traits in turn allowed the carp to grow to such sizes. Trout may be much newer and more advance by design but the tortoise is winning the race at this point. The large scales on carp protect them from predators whereas trout have very small, delicate scales, we all know how fragile trout can be. Eyesight; we all know trout have excellent vision, including great night-vision. They can see a fly the size of a pinhead flying to them at speeds of fifteen mph or more. Carp also have excellent vision, and its one of the frustrating things you will realize while trying to stalk them. Unless they've got their head in the mud like you would a breakfast burrito , move still, very still. The other couple of extraordinary senses are hearing and sense of smell. It is IMPOSSIBLE to fish for carp in a noisy boat. One bump with an oar and every carp in the area will make a mad dash, sending off a domino effect of chaos throughout the area. This will require another length of time before the next attempt is made. Forget the sunscreen, don't leak oil, and you better wash your hands off after smoking that cigarette. Carp have exceptional sense of smell and can often tell them you're there long before your line is rigged up.<br />
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A good rod and reel set-up is not necessary but will help. I recommend a sturdy 5/6 weight up to an 8 weight, with floating line and a 9 foot leader of 3 or 4x tippet. A good fly pattern to try is Joe Montana's Hybrid Carp Fly. This pattern can be changed up a little to suite your needs, but keep in mind black is always a good color. Avoid bright colors which may scare them off. Foam beetles, drowned hoppers, hare ears, etc all work very well. Weight IS important and highly depends on the conditions at the time. Have on hand non-weight, slightly weighted, and something heavier but not so heavy it causes a big splash. Weight comes down to the depth you're fishing, and how fast you want your fly to land on the bottom. The key is to land your fly right where the carp is headed. Forget blind casting, this is a head-hunting game. If you spot carp actively feeding in the mud, try and land your fly where you think the carp will be in a few seconds. If the monster fish is swimming but not feeding, try a slightly weighted or non-weighted fly and let it gently float at the fish's sight level. A turn of the head in your fly's direction will indicate a take, lift that rod tip up, set the hook and let the ride begin. Carp have soft lips, hook sets are easy even with smaller hooks. Just hope your rod has enough backbone to turn the fish away from cover and obstacles. It's quite a challenge even after you've landed several fish. In my book the common carp has become an icon of epic fishing. I wouldn't take any whiny kids along, forget bringing anyone without a considerable amount of patience, this is for the die-hard fly fishing enthusiast. Thanks for reading! Check below to read about my first day carping in Montana.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqSmI5O5EVb-Pf_czxppBiMgkX5R-c71pC_n6jtvkbwT2IOyENM0PKgQ2jYBtLC6oXyzzqsSCMxSWK6_3MvXqO2osYBd65f6H0NZ-d6EDHYW3kXS33A7UjnXDbSBwElN2XW2ZY_mX5St9b/s1600/carp3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqSmI5O5EVb-Pf_czxppBiMgkX5R-c71pC_n6jtvkbwT2IOyENM0PKgQ2jYBtLC6oXyzzqsSCMxSWK6_3MvXqO2osYBd65f6H0NZ-d6EDHYW3kXS33A7UjnXDbSBwElN2XW2ZY_mX5St9b/s200/carp3.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8sR3dJQ5KN0jmZnZmJuv7nBffR9WmSEqhn8d2iB8SNURm6sM8ztmo6eLQhECKTAiWZEJZ0dqEKsZnuKXDdIH2PGQ7z1JMnU-0c4l_uWk0qDDMZq6mhf29AmHyUPxRaxfgzE6ront7llf/s1600/carp4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8sR3dJQ5KN0jmZnZmJuv7nBffR9WmSEqhn8d2iB8SNURm6sM8ztmo6eLQhECKTAiWZEJZ0dqEKsZnuKXDdIH2PGQ7z1JMnU-0c4l_uWk0qDDMZq6mhf29AmHyUPxRaxfgzE6ront7llf/s200/carp4.jpg" width="150" /></a> My first hook up with the <i>poor man's Bonefish </i>was a day I will never forget. It was the day I got my butt off the couch and did a little field research on the subject of carp. I didn't know anything besides the little bit of reading I had done earlier. I packed up the raft, two fly rods, a box of flies, and my wiener dog. I knew right where I was going had carp. It was about noon, sunny and eighty-five degrees. I launched and set out across the lake. After paddling around for a little while without a clue what to do next I saw someone with a bow. She was in a bikini and had a cowboy hat on. I figured she wouldn't mind some dork in a boat with a dog coming up to her so I got out and went to ask a few questions. She said she was looking for the carp too but hadn't seen any, then pointed across to the other side of a different lake. "If I had a raft I would go over there" she said. Well, that's good enough for me. So I wished her luck and made my portage across the hundred yards of dry land.<br />
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Soon after reaching the other side of the this lake, I paddled into a shallow cove. Immediately I noticed plumes of mud by the dozens coming up from under and around the raft. I knew exactly at that moment that I'd found them. They were darting outt left and right. I was utterly dumbfounded on what to do. It wasn't until an hour and half later that I realized casting a leech to them from the raft wasn't going to work. Frustrated and over-heated, I ditched the boat and slowly made my way to some splashing on a shallow shelf. Twenty minutes of stalking, there before me were two massive carp circling each other. One was almost black, the other smaller one was a shiny golden color. I watched and watched until I started letting the fly line fly. I hadn't learned that my little leech was too much to spook them off until they both let loose in a wild bid to escape my deadly flailing clump of black marabou. The whole situation was nothing more than muddy waves retreating across my shins and I headed back to rebuttal.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4FQLxNY5Cd1xHmnKYXAO5HAOWgs1qtiAPGk9x1oe1EJBcFdKF0q4qZhdAicee4HTMwTPzC6mbmOx0EEH-SyWChWkxRFLA5cSzQ549HTKqRfFo45tk0fGPGxH-EeCVyxEG-W8OOgoqnXD/s1600/carp5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4FQLxNY5Cd1xHmnKYXAO5HAOWgs1qtiAPGk9x1oe1EJBcFdKF0q4qZhdAicee4HTMwTPzC6mbmOx0EEH-SyWChWkxRFLA5cSzQ549HTKqRfFo45tk0fGPGxH-EeCVyxEG-W8OOgoqnXD/s320/carp5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carp flats, not always pretty</td></tr>
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I tied on a Blue Midge Spinner pattern I like to use for trout on the Gallatin River. It was small and would sink slowly. It was another hour that I noticed more activity near the shallow shelf. I took my shoes off in order to make less disturbances. What felt like an eternity later, wading through stinky muck up to my knees, I had several large silhouettes cruising around twenty-five feet in front of me. The sun was starting to cut my glare making them more difficult to spot. I found the biggest one was the closest to me, and after watching its behavior I started letting line out. Cutting line through the air until I had enough, I made one last motion and set the fly in front of the feeding fish. One pass after the other, my offer was denied. Finally, the big fish managed its way into a little cul de sac of heavy vegetation. This fish was so big that the top third of it's body was just sitting there out of water. I made a few false casts and landed my midge right on top of its nose, between the wall of weeds and its vacuum mouth. I could tell the fish had found something, eagerly digging where my fly slowly fell. I took a shot and set the hook. All hell broke loose. The five inches of water soon became so displaced, I'll call this carp Moses. The powerful creature pushed with its tail so hard it was nearly walking on sand. My tension kept him charging and on and on he went. I saw my backing for the first time as the rocket powered fish sailed passed one hundred feet, halfway into the main lake. My drag screaming while he went airborne, pushing until exhaustion overcame his effort. Every other carp in the area was long gone and a few minutes later I manhandled the big guy into my arms. I walked all the way back to the raft to admire him some more and give a good revive. Still strong he swam away back to the hundreds of others out there.<br />
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It wasn't only the victory I accomplished over landing the magnificent animal but the revelation I experienced while doing so. My thoughts and preconceptions I once had were now replaced with great respect for the golden bone. Since I have managed a few more on each trip. The sheer effort involved has left me contemplating recently and I know they become more aggressive towards small streamers come fall. I may have to make a trip back before the year is over. Tight lines! <br />
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<br />montana trout fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17223720293441624888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-25571454706843958052015-07-29T14:14:00.003-07:002015-08-08T17:50:47.218-07:00Streamer Spotlight: Mark's Muddler If you've been fly fishing for more than a year, then you've probably heard of the Muddler Minnow. It is a streamer pattern created back in the 30's to imitate a previous sculpin pattern. The Muddler is a very reliable streamer perfect for about any setting. The fly has been tied in many patterns and colors, usually incorporating the spun-hair head for buoyancy. Wing, tail, and body, materials may vary depending on conditions or the prey imitated. Grasshoppers, leeches, minnows, sculpins, and crayfish can all be resembled with different color and material combinations. This fantastic fly can be swung in the current, brought downstream with a fast retrieve, or slowly twitched and stripped for big numbers and big fish. Time has proven that the Muddler Minnow's design is something potent and special. Working with the basic build, many fly fisherman are fine-tuning this deadly recipe for ever changing environments. One of those fisherman is Mark.<br />
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My friend, roommate, professional kayak fisherman, and up and coming fishing hot-shot Mark Lyon, came up with a solid variation while fishing the streams and rivers of Montana. He deems it the Mark's Muddler and its a keeper. I've used the MM a handful of times, more recently now that I have been focusing on streamer techniques. My first impression, the fly was bulky yet light, had a strong profile and abstract colors. The usual feather wing is replaced with maribou. Mark uses some silver tinsel for a bit of flash along the shank. His pattern in particular is made in olive or purple on a number six hook, but I have tied the MM with a number eight hook for smaller streams and trout. A long, ten to twelve foot leader, of straight mono will help this fly get down deep. The buoyant reindeer hair gives the fly excellent up and down action. Mark trims his Muddlers head to a bullet-like profile, rather than the traditional spherical cut; this lets the MM cut through the water better while finding the right balance in head buoyancy. Mark's Muddler is a good search fly. This pattern resembles juvenile trout or baitfish. When tied in olive and fished along the bottom it looks more like a sculpin. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marks Muddler</td></tr>
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Recipe:<br />
-Number 6 streamer hook<br />
-Small gauge lead wire<br />
-Black dubbing<br />
-Heavy black thread<br />
-Reindeer Hair<br />
-Purple or olive maribou<br />
-Silver tinsel<br />
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How do you tie Mark's Muddler? Well, I don't have a video yet but I can explain in step by step directions. If you are familiar with tying the Muddler Minnow then it should be easy. Start off by adding small gauge lead wire to the entire hook shank. With some strong black thread, tie in the lead securely. With the thread hanging near the end of the hook shank, tie in some silver tinsel, then tie in a generous amount of maribou for the tail, The maribou will be trimmed, just make sure it is at least two inches long. Now, add black dubbing to your thread and wrap forward. Once you are about 1/4 the distance of the hook shank from the eye stop. Next, wrap your tinsel evenly with spaces up towards the eye. Be sure to wrap the end of the tinsel in well with thread. Take a pair of scissors and cut approximately 1 and 1/4 inches from the maribou tail, this will become the wing of the streamer. The remainder of the tail should be about 1/2 inch. Tie in the cut maribou to where your tinsel stops, with the trimmed ends to the hook. The wing should extend past the tail about 1/4 of an inch. Once your wing is secured, cut a nice little pinch of reindeer hair. There is no need to stack the hair unless you feel the desire, Tie in clumps of reindeer hair until you start to build a nice thick head. The hair will extend as far as the wing, or slightly shorter. Once two or three clumps of hair are tied into the top of the hook shank, forward of the wing, you can do a few over hand knots or whip finish either between the head and wing or behind the eye. Now it's time to trim the Mark's Muddler and give it the bullet-head profile were looking for. If the head is not a solid piece of hair, or seems thin, next time just add more hair. It can take a good amount to get the bullet-head profile correct. I do believe getting a good thick head can be the difference between this fly fishing well or not.<br />
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There you have the first ever write-up of the Mark's Muddler. I do hope this pattern can get out there to the fishing public. I know it will help improve anyone's chances at hooking up, as this is a solid and well proven design. If your are not a dry fly only kinda guy, or want to try throwing streamers, then this pattern will bring joy to you and your rod, and its easy to tie! Get out there, tie on a Mark's Muddler, and thanks for reading! Tight lines everyone -Mikemontana trout fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17223720293441624888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-56229213757962513332015-07-21T18:50:00.001-07:002015-07-29T18:06:06.604-07:00Video Blog: Hyalite Creek Experience, Summer 2015 Here's a video I made of me fishing Hyalite Creek this summer. I fished two different sections. Please be sure to watch it in 480p for the best viewing experience. I would have preferred 1080p but was having issues rendering it at such quality. I hope you enjoy! -Mike<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0Kc9xpNWMtk" width="480"></iframe><br />
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<br />montana trout fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17223720293441624888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-17172314041865327722015-07-11T07:03:00.001-07:002015-07-11T07:03:35.840-07:00Restrictions and Closures for SW Montana Rivers and Streams July 2015<h3 class="waterbodyTitle" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(186, 195, 175); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 1.8em; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1em; margin: 30px 5px 10px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: black; font-size: 1.8em; line-height: 1em;">Restrictions & Closures</span></h3>
<dl style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Geneva, Arial, Helvetica, san-serif; font-size: 11.1999998092651px; padding: 8px 6px;">
<dt style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.4em;"><span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="http://fwp.mt.gov/fishing/guide/waterbodyDetail.html?llid=1123386455677" target="_parent">Beaverhead River</a></span></dt>
<dd style="font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; padding-bottom: 5px;"><span style="background-color: black;"><strong>Hoot Owl Fishing Restriction starting 07/10/2015 </strong><br />Mandatory Drought Closure - 2 PM to Midnight<br />Portions of the Beaverhead River from Anderson Lane to its confluence with the Big Hole River <em>(7/9/2015)</em><br /> </span></dd>
<dt style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.4em;"><span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="http://fwp.mt.gov/fishing/guide/waterbodyDetail.html?llid=1123386455678" target="_parent">Big Hole River</a></span></dt>
<dd style="font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; padding-bottom: 5px;"><span style="background-color: black;"><strong>Hoot Owl Fishing Restriction starting 07/03/2015 </strong><br />Mandatory Drought Closure - 2 PM to Midnight<br />Entire Big Hole River, excluding Dickey Bridge to Maiden Rock Fishing Access Site.<em>(7/2/2015)</em><br /> </span></dd>
<dt style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.4em;"><span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="http://fwp.mt.gov/fishing/guide/waterbodyDetail.html?llid=1141176468612" target="_parent">Bitterroot River</a></span></dt>
<dd style="font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; padding-bottom: 5px;"><span style="background-color: black;"><strong>Hoot Owl Fishing Restriction starting 07/03/2015 </strong><br />Mandatory Drought Closure - 2 PM to Midnight<br />Bitterroot River from its origin at the confluence of the East and West Forks of the Bitterroot River to its mouth <em>(7/2/2015)</em><br /> </span></dd>
<dt style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.4em;"><span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="http://fwp.mt.gov/fishing/guide/waterbodyDetail.html?llid=1138907468712" target="_parent">Blackfoot River</a></span></dt>
<dd style="font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; padding-bottom: 5px;"><span style="background-color: black;"><strong>Hoot Owl Fishing Restriction starting 07/03/2015 </strong><br />Mandatory Drought Closure - 2 PM to Midnight<br />Blackfoot River from its headwaters to its confluence with the Clark Fork River <em>(7/2/2015</em><br /> </span></dd>
<dt style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.4em;"><span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="http://fwp.mt.gov/fishing/guide/waterbodyDetail.html?llid=1162072481455" target="_parent">Clark Fork River</a></span></dt>
<dd style="font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; padding-bottom: 5px;"><span style="background-color: black;"><strong>Hoot Owl Fishing Restriction starting 07/03/2015 </strong><br />Mandatory Drought Closure - 2 PM to Midnight<br />Clark Fork River from its origin at the confluence of Warm Springs and Silver Bow Creeks to the confluence with the Flathead River <em>(7/2/2015)</em><br /> </span></dd>
<dt style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.4em;"><span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="http://fwp.mt.gov/fishing/guide/waterbodyDetail.html?llid=1113345458915" target="_parent">East Gallatin River</a></span></dt>
<dd style="font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; padding-bottom: 5px;"><span style="background-color: black;"><strong>Hoot Owl Fishing Restriction starting 07/10/2015 </strong><br />Mandatory Drought Closure - 2 PM to Midnight<br />Entire East Gallatin River from its origin at the confluence of Rocky and Sourdough Creeks to its confluence with the West Gallatin River <em>(7/9/2015)</em><br /> </span></dd>
<dt style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.4em;"><span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="http://fwp.mt.gov/fishing/guide/waterbodyDetail.html?llid=1131454466536" target="_parent">Flint Creek</a></span></dt>
<dd style="font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; padding-bottom: 5px;"><span style="background-color: black;"><strong>Hoot Owl Fishing Restriction starting 07/03/2015 </strong><br />Mandatory Drought Closure - 2 PM to Midnight<br />From the Highway 1 Bridge near milepost 53 to the mouth <em>(7/2/2015)</em><br /> </span></dd>
<dt style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.4em;"><span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="http://fwp.mt.gov/fishing/guide/waterbodyDetail.html?llid=1114924459385" target="_parent">Gallatin River</a></span></dt>
<dd style="font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; padding-bottom: 5px;"><span style="background-color: black;"><strong>Hoot Owl Fishing Restriction starting 07/10/2015 </strong><br />Mandatory Drought Closure - 2 PM to Midnight<br />Lower Gallatin River from Sheds Bridge (Hwy 84) near Four Corners, MT, downstream to its confluence with the Madison River at Three Forks <em>(7/9/2015)</em><br /> </span></dd>
<dt style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.4em;"><span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="http://fwp.mt.gov/fishing/guide/waterbodyDetail.html?llid=1115074459268" target="_parent">Jefferson River</a></span></dt>
<dd style="font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; padding-bottom: 5px;"><span style="background-color: black;"><strong>Hoot Owl Fishing Restriction starting 07/03/2015 </strong><br />Mandatory Drought Closure - 2 PM to Midnight<br />Entire Jefferson River <em>(7/2/2015)</em><br /> </span></dd>
<dt style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.4em;"><span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="http://fwp.mt.gov/fishing/guide/waterbodyDetail.html?llid=1115074459269" target="_parent">Madison River</a></span></dt>
<dd style="font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; padding-bottom: 5px;"><span style="background-color: black;"><strong>Hoot Owl Fishing Restriction starting 07/10/2015 </strong><br />Mandatory Drought Closure - 2 PM to Midnight<br />Lower Madison River from Ennis Dam to the Missouri River Headwaters. <em>(7/9/2015)</em><br /> </span></dd>
<dt style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.4em;"><span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="http://fwp.mt.gov/fishing/guide/waterbodyDetail.html?llid=1123453455129" target="_parent">Ruby River</a></span></dt>
<dd style="font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; padding-bottom: 5px;"><span style="background-color: black;"><strong>Hoot Owl Fishing Restriction starting 07/10/2015 </strong><br />Mandatory Drought Closure - 2 PM to Midnight<br />Portions of the Ruby River from Duncan District Road to its confluence with the Beaverhead River <em>(7/9/2015)</em><br /> </span></dd>
<dt style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.4em;"><span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="http://fwp.mt.gov/fishing/guide/waterbodyDetail.html?llid=1104569457234" target="_parent">Shields River</a></span></dt>
<dd style="font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; padding-bottom: 5px;"><span style="background-color: black;"><strong>Hoot Owl Fishing Restriction starting 07/10/2015 </strong><br />Mandatory Drought Closure - 2 PM to Midnight<br />Most of the Shields River from its confluence with Smith Creek downstream to its confluence with the Yellowstone River. <em>(7/9/2015)</em><br /> </span></dd>
<dt style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.4em;"><span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="http://fwp.mt.gov/fishing/guide/waterbodyDetail.html?llid=1127708461870" target="_parent">Silver Bow Creek</a></span></dt>
<dd style="font-size: 1.1em; line-height: 1.4em; padding-bottom: 5px;"><span style="background-color: black;"><strong>Hoot Owl Fishing Restriction starting 07/03/2015 </strong><br />Mandatory Drought Closure - 2 PM to Midnight<br />From Blacktail Creek to the mouth where it joins with Warm Springs Creek <em>(7/2/2015)</em><br /> </span></dd></dl>
montana trout fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17223720293441624888noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-19346151298981919702015-07-05T12:43:00.001-07:002015-07-21T18:44:52.759-07:00Kayaking For Trout: Ennis Lake <br />
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I didn't know what to expect when Mark said he wanted to take me out on Ennis Lake. The thought of eighty-five degree rays of sunshine pounding me nonstop had me on the fence. There wasn't much of a breeze nor any trees for shade, temps to climb. I can handle the sun and heat but can the trout? Would they be willing to bite on a day I would typically hit the much colder Gallatin River, or even stay inside until things cooled off? On the other hand it was an opportunity to learn new water and take a ride in a top of the line kayak. Of course I had to go, there was no choice! Lately I have been a pretty avid fly fisherman, however, I was told to bring spinning gear along on this trip as well as fly gear. The hunters would be white Zonkers, Marks Muddler in olive or purple, and gold/silver Vibrax spinners. There would be little to no nymphing or dry fly fishing. It was four o'clock and we were fishing into dark.<br />
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The Montana air was calm when we set out from the launch. The lake was still and looked like glass. I was eager to make the mile long paddle in a vessel I had little experience with. I was pleased to be gliding across timid water and not thrashing through two foot white caps. The kayak was stable and a pleasure to pilot so far. The lake was fairly clear, at times only three to four feet deep. Strands of vegetation rise up from a sandy colored bottom. An occasional submarine would dart out from under me, effortlessly gliding into the deep. I was seeing four and five pounders every hundred paddle strokes. "What was this madness?" I said to myself, "a lake not full of fifteen inchers?" I beat the temptation to stop and throw a trolling line out as I was eager to find some structure. The paddle in only took twenty minutes. I looked back across the vast space we had so effortlessly conquered. I could tell this particular location was difficult to get to by foot and impossible to reach by car. I put down my oar and slid quietly across the water. I was taking it all in when I heard Mark's rod clunking against the bottom of his pirogue. The lake was behind me as I was looking at the long and desolate shore. There beyond my left were pieces of land sticking out into the lake, each like long fingers almost anatomically perfect to a human hand. Each finger protected from view narrow strips of tributaries that were dumping cold water into the lake.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snapshot of the days big brown trout</td></tr>
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Mark and I started throwing spinners to the bank and it wasn't long until we both got on the board with above average fish. I gave standing up and fishing out of the kayak a try. The craft was remarkably stable. I could even kneel down perpendicular to the bow and stern. The way our surroundings looked and the sense of standing gave me a similar sense to that of flats fishing down in the tropics. The advantage I had, getting over the glare angle and being able to see farther away, made whole setting highly gratifying. We both slowly worked our way to an inlet and began fishing all the structure we saw. Fish after fish were averaging seventeen to eighteen inches. It was in one of these inlets that I pulled in my biggest brown to date. Granted, she wasn't caught on a fly rod, but that didn't make anything less exciting nor intense. It was a ten foot cast right next to an undercut bank that instantly led to a fight to remember. As soon as I could close the bail and begin to reel, the water boiled. This fish made a mad dash for me, and then right past to whip the kayak around. Again, after feeling the tension of the line, the huge brown hauled me around once more. There was a dark torpedo rapidly strafing back and forth, fighting for its life. She tried relentlessly to get into the undercut bank but I was stronger. It wasn't but a few moments later and she was in the net briefly before quickly tumbling back into the water. I was baffled by the whole scene, only to be left wishing to have spent a few more moments to admire the size and beauty. I quickly shrugged and began maneuvering deeper into the maze of cuts and braids.<br />
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An hour or so of some of the best trout fishing later and Mark and I began paddling our own ways within this delta-like environment. Knee high, lush green grass dominated any land along with a few short trees and bushes. The grass on the banks dropped off to fist size river rock, that, if not undercut, would slowly taper into the shallow channels. A few islands were here and there making for good structure. I pulled up behind one of these islands to eat a snack and recharge. I'd flip a spinner through an eddie with a sandwich in my hand and pull in a hog. I could ever so often hear a fish break the surface from Mark's rod as he was a hundred yards down. The wind began to pick up making for some choppy water, which I love to fish so I changed to a Belly Bouncer streamer AKA Zonker. I really knuckled down and tweaked my "swing" technique until I was hauling in the big boys. I stood before a section of current as I was knee deep, cast forty-five degrees downstream, and let the current swing my streamer down. As it rolled through the rocks a flash would be emitted from the lure, resulting in a ferocious, self-setting hit. I'm sure Mark could hear me yelling as my adrenaline took over. Again and again the fish leaped out of the water. The fight went on for a good five minutes. The last fish of the day ended up being a nineteen or twenty inch rainbow on my five weight rod. One of the best fights I can remember. The time was only six-thirty.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Average trout </td></tr>
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As I was getting ready to head up into the unknown, Mark was paddling my way. The wind was blowing rather hard at this point. As an inexperienced kayaker and lake fisherman I was unsure how this would play into our day. By the time that thought was over Mark yelled "We've got to get out of here man, sorry to cut your day short but the lake is looking pretty bad". I didn't argue when I looked down and saw two foot rollers pushing against our way home. The earlier calm and friendly lake turned into a grey beast churning and spitting. I knew it would be a rough paddle. I stowed my gear, we put our heads down and pushed back through the winding narrow sections we came through. The moment we got out into the main body I knew we made a good choice getting out before dark. The spray from whitecaps taller than the kayaks felt like a constant rain and not rolling over was a goal. The headwind was so bad that stopping to rest would result in the loss of fifteen feet in a few moments. I wanted to troll a spinner on the way back but catching a fish would lose me twenty minutes of paddle time.The paddle back took us twice as long and three times the effort.<br />
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The day ended at eight-thirty and overall was one of the best days of fishing I've ever had. We had <i>both</i> quality and quantity in a relatively short period. The rough paddle back was only the toll for an epic day and part of the whole adventure. I will surely get back there but unfortunately the only way to reach it is by kayak or canoe. The kayak, for me, was a whole pleasure within itself. The ability to silently glide into position and remain stealthy while fishing is a great advantage when fishing for trout. Rafts, catamarans, and belly boats are great for rivers or small lakes, but the Predator MX takes it when it comes to paddling long distances with ease. A big thanks to Old Town Canoe, Dave Howlett, and Mark Lyon for making this experience happen. The video of this adventure is below. Tight lines everyone and thanks for reading! -Mike<br />
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<br />montana trout fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17223720293441624888noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-55953352087479234482014-11-05T11:44:00.001-08:002015-02-13T12:21:40.354-08:00My Quick Tips: Fall Trout Fishing<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fall is a beautiful time to be in the river. (East Gallatin)</td></tr>
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Fall has certainly made an appearance in my part of the country. This time of year is known to be one of the best seasons for fly fishermen. The waters are low and clear. The summer tourists are long gone. The big browns swim out from cover looking to feast upon an abundance of food, food that will help them survive the winter. Colder temperatures shut down the highly productive insect cycles and slow the trout's metabolism. They need to stock up in order to survive the harsh months ahead. Think of a bear in pursuit of food before hibernating; when bears are often causing the most trouble. It's then that they lose their ability to rationalize and think adequatly, pushing their limits to find sustenance. Large browns will go out of their boundaries too. They realize that they need to act when the opportunity arises instead of waiting until conditions are just right. Big fish are less likely to be pushed into cover for the majority of the day, only coming out to feed at night, when they are desperately trying to get fit for winter. After the leaves have changed and before the snow constantly falls, big fish swim hungry under the ever lowering sun. Its fall when the twice-a-year angler can dawn his waders and head to the river with significantly greater chances of hooking into a trophy fish.<br />
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I realize that to catch more fish you must increase your odds of doing so as much as possible. That sounds simple enough, and it really is, but that must always be on the top of your mind if you want to be successful. Taking that, we can break down the best times of the year and focus on the type of fishing for each. My two favorite times of the year are after the spring run-off and during fall. I have focused a lot of my attention on learning how to fish post run-off. I have learned the about the insects that hatch that time of year, where the fish are holding, how rising water levels will effect them, etc. I literally imagined myself as a fish trying to survive, thinking like a fish in every aspect, I almost felt loony. We can do the same for fall fishing. We know it is one of the best times of the year to wet a line, so why not learn all we can to fish it even better?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjugb0ZobIOEFEpEFusMGLmAvoKnK7rOueX9gdC7oW2iDxi_ljOvuBg1gTJ1ygvUc30svFiJj-J79fFJVne5WPDOhFoRpcK_ovIUvxXzyjnQSBk1h6brujFBOG0MsMH45htlrYyRfN0m7MX/s1600/10151162_10203953770262666_4003759802176547071_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjugb0ZobIOEFEpEFusMGLmAvoKnK7rOueX9gdC7oW2iDxi_ljOvuBg1gTJ1ygvUc30svFiJj-J79fFJVne5WPDOhFoRpcK_ovIUvxXzyjnQSBk1h6brujFBOG0MsMH45htlrYyRfN0m7MX/s1600/10151162_10203953770262666_4003759802176547071_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fall trout feeding on BWO's</td></tr>
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I really could write for pages on this subject, but will try and share some big points. The trout, especially the large ones, need energy to survive the upcoming harshness of winter. A lot of animals die every year in this part of the country, including trout, because food becomes sparse. The caddis and mayfly cycles almost come to a halt in the middle of winter. Terrestrials are rarely seen on the banks, let alone in front of a hungry trout. Even the sculpins and crayfish slow down and burrow into the mud and rocks. The whole underwater scene that is so prolific with life during warmer months turns into a gloomy, dark, cold deathtrap for any living creature ill-prepared. That being said, the fish are hungry in the fall! The high sun and clear skies which make trout weary are turning into shorter days and overcast skies. Big browns have free range in any water they desire. Try fishing those places that held no fish in the summer. The shallow riffles that were too warm in the summer are now as cold as any other part of the river. Remember this and apply it to your waters. Knowing the above will boost your morale and help you catch big fish. Fall is also great time to fish streamers shallow with floating line, whereas during the summer, you would need a sink tip line to fish deep during the hot days.<br />
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Large streamers are known to take hungry browns during fall, but don't forget about the tiny midges. My fall setup is often a large lead fly, say a salmonfly nymph, above a tiny #20 blood midge, or zebra midge. Midges are one of the few foods that trout prey upon year round. You can bet that midge hatches happen almost everyday during the deep winter months. The idea of big fish on tiny flies is intrigueing yet can be extremely frustrating. My largest trout was a Madison River hog, hooked in the lip with a #22 lightning bug. He held on for five minutes but the hook quickly came flying out of his mouth when he left the water that one last time. Despite that, fishing small flies into fall is a must to catch large numbers. Another excellent fall pattern are small pheasant tails. This time of year, the Blue Winged Olive is a common site in western waters. Pale Morning Duns and Pale Evening duns also commonly rise from the rivers during fall. PMDs and BWOs are the two dry flies you will want to have in your box, along with <em>all</em> of the stages of these bugs lives. You will want to imitate the size more so than you did during summer. Some of these fish have been thrown every fly since run-off and havent yet had a winter to get adjusted to less pressured life in the stream. The water during fall tends to be low and very clear. Concentrated fish are a good thing, but they are weary, and will become less weary as the need for food becomes more important. <br />
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So there you have it. Since there is so much more I could discuss, I give you now the basics to fall trout fishing. Maybe I will make a part two for fall 2015. I hope the novice fly fisherman can learn something from this or perhaps the intermediate angler can reinforce their thoughts on the subject. If you're an expert reading this, please feel free to email me and share your thoughts on fall fishing. The sport of fly fishing is a lot like golf, a whole lifetime is not enough to learn every single aspect. I share the same desire as many of you do in pursuing fish and I hope to help anyone having trouble figuring out the riddles of fly fishing for trout. Tight lines all! -Mike<br />
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montana trout fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17223720293441624888noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-42481477881881715422014-10-12T10:58:00.004-07:002014-10-12T10:58:27.091-07:00Chasing Grayling and Big Cutties, Part Two ...Continued from Chasing Grayling and Big Cutties<br />
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Little did I know that the first, second, third, and fourth cast would all redeem worthy fish. At one point shortly after, I remember thinking that this was so unreal, it couldn't be possible. During the fun of one of the fights I noticed something was strange about the fish on the end of my line. He didn't hardly put up a fight but had considerable weight. To my surprise I had hooked into a gorgeous sixteen inch arctic grayling. I could go on and on about how grayling are the representation of superb water quality, and how catching them in the lower forty-eight feels like a true privilege, but Ill save that for a later article. I will share however, the beauty of these rare gems. Of the few I caught, one stood out the most. It was the largest of the four I caught that day, maybe seventeen inches long (a very respectable catch for a grayling). It's skull felt thick upon hook removal and it had the colors of a marble with multiple blues and greens swirling together. I felt what I imagined shark skin to feel like when I picked it up, rough like thick sandpaper, nothing like a trout. The last thing I noticed was the massive dorsal fin. When held right, the fin stands a full body width in height, almost doubling the size of the fish. Grayling truly are a special fish, just as special as the places you will find them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHevuCBnOqq-tVRC9I9zHf7gWx3mQ8V5_Kn3UP48oHaABQU5NJQmdu_u_Ar6H663GoMPCWzk4JavcIKhpDcNIB7Y04DLKlZoXGskjeSvF0KlXQCNwUGYfBsmS_p3UwxXT7NJ3Fio8t_-sd/s1600/10177217_10202993316691927_4771528675714277138_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHevuCBnOqq-tVRC9I9zHf7gWx3mQ8V5_Kn3UP48oHaABQU5NJQmdu_u_Ar6H663GoMPCWzk4JavcIKhpDcNIB7Y04DLKlZoXGskjeSvF0KlXQCNwUGYfBsmS_p3UwxXT7NJ3Fio8t_-sd/s1600/10177217_10202993316691927_4771528675714277138_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a> So about a dozen casts later I had caught my forth grayling, I was also catching plenty of big cutthroat. I came to the realization that all of the fish I was catching that day were exceptionally beautiful. These cuttys were on their way to spawn so their colors were at their brightest. Deep oranges to bright reds, iridescent greens with hints of purples and chrome, every fish was unique. The bright orange on their gills that stands out so much any other time of the year was now hidden in a jungle of colors and hues. I took a moment to appreciate each and everyone of these great creatures before releasing them. I even took time to snap a few quick shots. Among them, my personal best cutthroat trout with a length of about nineteen to twenty inches.<br />
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By now, the fisherman that were so far away from me when I arrived, were now making a pilgrimage towards me. Every successful haul, I could feel their energy getting closer. There's nothing that bothers me more in the sport of fishing than other people encroaching on my success. Back home, in Iowa, this bothered me almost everywhere I went. The populations in other states are expressed on the side of the bank, many many fisherman. Out here, in almost a wilderness type setting you'd think we could all find our own little space, and leave others to theirs. After a steady twenty minutes of me reeling in the big cuts, I had plenty of company. "What are you throwing at them?" one replied as he stood on top of the water I was fishing. I told him, straight up, everything I was using to catch the fish. Thirty minutes went by before they got as close as they could, believing I was where the fish were, and it certainly seemed true.<br />
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I'm a fairly humble person when it comes to things I'm good at. But this day in the mountains I was catching so many fish, I almost felt like someone else should have at it. The other guys out there were watching me but I too was watching them. The only interruption would be a trout breaking the surface in front of me, and a look on my face expressing something like "Sorry, I didn't mean to catch this guy". Maybe it was because I was fishing so close to the sign prohibiting fishing upstream out of season. Or it could have been that I made it look easy and I happened to have the correct gear. Whatever it was it ended up getting the best of me by the end of the day. After hooking up nearly every other cast, I was worn out. "It couldn't hurt to leave these fish for another day", I told myself before heading to the Jeep. It wasn't until the next day that I realized I stumbled into that short window that only comes maybe a few days a year up at the reservoir. The long drive up the mountain the next day revealed disappointment. Only twelve hours after I had walked the treacherous journey into a flawless honey hole, the reservoir flooded its banks.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cutthroat with spawning colors</td></tr>
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Maybe I won't make it back to the outlet of the upper creek ever again. Timing is key and with that is the risk of making several drives next year only to find out that I'm too early or too late. Mother nature cannot be predicted on the level it takes to foresee when the reservoir opens without swelling beyond its banks. The window for opportunity is very slim and anyone who finds themselves up there during the spring melt, keep your eyes on the upper creek outlet for ideal conditions. You'll know it when you see it!<br />
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Montana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-35530687177728048892014-09-23T19:56:00.002-07:002016-03-02T06:54:12.821-08:00Gardiner River, Yellowstone Park, MT <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gardiner River, Yellowstone Park</span></div>
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September 21st, 2014</div>
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I kicked the bug I had and recently went fishing on the Gardiner River. It was a great to put my boots on and anticipate that cool water around my legs. This time I was headed to a place I've never been before. These waters I've so badly wanted to fish for many years, the rivers and streams of Yellowstone Park. For some reason since moving to Montana, I haven't taken the short drive there to fish. I've been there a handful of times since residing in Bozeman, and once when I was younger. And have always had a strong desire to come back and try my luck. Well, since meeting a new friend that is as obsessed with fly fishing as I am, I've had the opportunity to learn some outstanding information about the angling. Almost as soon as I met Joe I was invited to come along and spend a day learning how to fish the Gardiner River. Joe has been fly fishing the area since the 1980's. His plethora of knowledge far exceeds mine. When he's not fishing the same rivers that I do, he spends his time chasing bonefish in Central America. Fly fishing and tying are just a few things hes good at, along with a few other hobbies we share. So far its been a great and pleasurable experience fishing with Joe.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQkDM5Z9RxlE_ZpP7Ki3IiBx5uZIaxkpYK1sW9W-21VclaB04g6xZvGvko0iQS967KBY0kBcW6WG8f1Iaxyl4tg6ltjHC55rfHK4mSdgl98oz7cy2CnKismHRsQVJEgN2REaqO3hmU4WI/s1600/10647198_10203771970157777_1525899560681852873_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQkDM5Z9RxlE_ZpP7Ki3IiBx5uZIaxkpYK1sW9W-21VclaB04g6xZvGvko0iQS967KBY0kBcW6WG8f1Iaxyl4tg6ltjHC55rfHK4mSdgl98oz7cy2CnKismHRsQVJEgN2REaqO3hmU4WI/s1600/10647198_10203771970157777_1525899560681852873_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fall colors line the Gardner</td></tr>
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We left at about eight AM from Bozeman. It only took us an hour and and ten minutes to get to the cool little town of Gardner, Montana. Gardner is a gateway town to Yellowstone, so it is simply everything Yellowstone. Elk and mule deer graze on the lawns, and buffalo frequent the tarmac of the Gardiner airport. We stopped at Park's Fly Shop to purchase my three day park permit and a few leaders. Joe introduced me to Matt Minch, a fly tying enthusiast and long time guide of the Yellowstone River. Minch is a great fellow to know. His days of river wading may be over but he can sure tie a pretty fine fly. I would say nobody knows the area better than Matt and the guys at Park's. If you are new to the area and need to be informed or perhaps don't want to hire a guide, stop in and they'll be happy to share with you what they know. Golden stoneflies and the shop's "bead hair and copper" were recommended this time of year. Hoppers were something to keep an eye out for and who doesn't love fishing them? We hustled out the door and made one more detour for coffee. Through the gate, our first pull-off was only ten minutes down the road, near the cliffs where some mountain goats are often seen. The river here is high flowing white water gushing over plenty of flat water, or pocket water. I would say from bank to bank the river spans fifteen feet across at this section. As I got my gear on, Joe came over and gave me a couple of his hand tied golden stones and a few bead hair and coppers. I stowed them away as I had already tied on my trusty girdle bug and BM. I headed off the road down an embankment to a strip of river he advised me to hit first. By my second cast I had caught a hard fighting twelve inch rainbow. The Gardiner holds a variety of fish including rainbow, brown, brook, cutthroat, mountain whitefish, and possibly grayling. It's a fun factor when you dont know what you're going to catch next. I knew the day was going to be excellent.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1a3htESTvCrWhBXUJURXuD5pP4mCa0-OHzZR9sb6KYHjQC4gtNyBvt5Pr2wavdeKeKWykOSkU2BAKiYEs7QzhUhnIkGiX6PQApmyDeUgah4zGkhALmuvU-EHZFENpRxUEXS5xGCV2tiuq/s1600/10477044_10203771969597763_4061613210098446510_n+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1a3htESTvCrWhBXUJURXuD5pP4mCa0-OHzZR9sb6KYHjQC4gtNyBvt5Pr2wavdeKeKWykOSkU2BAKiYEs7QzhUhnIkGiX6PQApmyDeUgah4zGkhALmuvU-EHZFENpRxUEXS5xGCV2tiuq/s1600/10477044_10203771969597763_4061613210098446510_n+(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very colorful rainbow </td></tr>
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The plan was for me to keep walking about three quarters of a mile upstream to a parking area where Joe would leave the truck. I would get there, get a bite to eat and then continue upstream to where he was going to be fishing. After walking upstream from my point of entry and around the first bend I netted another small rainbow. I couldn't help but pause after releasing the fish, and take everything in for a moment. "This place just keeps on amazing me", I thought. Another bend revealed a meadow setting, within it beautiful fall colors from bushes sheathing the bank, contrasting against the sky and river. To me this was heaven. I love sections of meandering streams. Lazy quiet and peaceful. Places like this are home to big brown trout. You can hear it in the quietness of the air. Deep, slow water chugging along through each bend riffle and run. The transition into fall sends the hogs ( 2-9 lbs) up from the Yellowstone in pursuit of the spawn. We were hoping the cold snaps this month had convinced some mature brown trout into thinking its time to move up. I slowly walked up on a nice run and took a few photos. I took a minute to read the river and listen for any movement in the water. I still had on a girdle bug and that size eighteen blue midge. I was employing a nine foot, 3x Rio leader with some 4x tippet tied from that, securing my split shot on the knot. I worked the run a few times and pulled from it a respectable sixteen inch rainbow. This fish had colors unlike I've personally seen on a trout before. A quick picture and he was abrupt to swim away, while I just wanted to thank him for his time. By now I was beginning to get a bit parched but unfortunately left my drink in the truck . Although I fished a few good spots on the way, I hustled past a lot of good looking water.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3tTjcA_m6PHM0rfzJL3icjl4lKMzv_lvB9zAUBz80knpEK8npDtiqxdyY3D-q957wAhKPt6qnuyOSUe2Bw5E4H72iBJOjgmRkdyOIP3KaDvuEkoeYcjc7681T6dJq6CqMnK4yM0CH7UT/s1600/10653486_10203771970317781_4506793739744205329_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3tTjcA_m6PHM0rfzJL3icjl4lKMzv_lvB9zAUBz80knpEK8npDtiqxdyY3D-q957wAhKPt6qnuyOSUe2Bw5E4H72iBJOjgmRkdyOIP3KaDvuEkoeYcjc7681T6dJq6CqMnK4yM0CH7UT/s1600/10653486_10203771970317781_4506793739744205329_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gardner River brown trout, size ten girdle bug</td></tr>
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The day was turning into a hot one. The skies were clear and the sun was shining down on me. Despite the intense sunshine, the bite was a good one. I hadn't seen any other fishermen. I did however run into a part of the river with lots and lots of people. Upstream from the truck there's an attraction that brings a lot of tourists to this part of the park. Here, thermal springs come up out of the ground and mix with the cool mountain water of the Gardiner. On cold days this is a lot of fun but even on hot days the water from the Gardner is so cold it can still feel pretty refreshing. It was a strange feeling fishing so close to people in their bathing suits. Did I say there were a lot of people? Every other back cast I had to check over my shoulder as not to snag grandmas one piece. I managed to meet up with Joe and we chatted. I decided to head way up past the hot pots and find some solitude again. Joe said good deep water was up there, and I was itching for a big runner (spawning brown). I walked and walked until I finally looked up and saw a site to be had. River like I've never seen before, unspoiled by anything made by man. The only path along the bank was used daily by a heard of resident elk. Just about every big mammal in the country was somewhere out there in front of me. I was alone and it was awesome. I kept pushing to get around the next bend, to see what was out there. I released a nice fish here and there. My last fish was a decent little brown trout, maybe fifteen inches. It certainly wasn't the runner I was looking for but nonetheless a nice fish.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidfJtjoXGoN4ieGJiN1xrk9N6QFIam0O2GxJHd5Uf3cLaPWeSj2-Tc7WAuj77ecR6CsoJ1VeKBZT-uQRB1ZrYZm3ywYw4oCbTjza8Ugu18racMvjgMvc97DTrfETzixa7AtIUq2_CFRxPY/s1600/10636148_10203771969037749_7699522364147789421_n+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidfJtjoXGoN4ieGJiN1xrk9N6QFIam0O2GxJHd5Uf3cLaPWeSj2-Tc7WAuj77ecR6CsoJ1VeKBZT-uQRB1ZrYZm3ywYw4oCbTjza8Ugu18racMvjgMvc97DTrfETzixa7AtIUq2_CFRxPY/s1600/10636148_10203771969037749_7699522364147789421_n+(1).jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of four braids with meadows all around</td></tr>
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I agreed to meet Joe back at the truck around three and needed to get back. On the way I had some fun with a few fish on hoppers and found a few pieces of black obsidian glass. It was a great day. I was fairly exhausted on my return. The sun was harsh but I could have easily stayed for the rest of the day. I was hungry and thirsty and even a little bruised from a spill I had. Joe and I had a sandwich and swapped a few stories with another fly fishermen. We relaxed next to the river for bit and then packed up. I was one hundred percent satisfied with the day. It wasn't easy to leave, but not as hard if I had ended up skunked. I'm definitely going to have to make it back in a month or so for the fall brown run. I also wouldn't mind exploring further in the park. This trip, the fish were holding in pocket water and near the tails of deeper runs. There was a little bit of algae on the rocks, returning a few fowled hooks every now and then. I could imagine an egg pattern would be devastating during any spawn. With the remoteness and lack of other fishermen, at least to me, is something to be cherished. Not knowing when the last time someone fished a particular stretch of river rivals the waters people fish everyday. Untouched and unknown are two huge factors I have hard time finding, even in Montana. Yellowstone leaves all of that open for anyone to enjoy.<br />
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*Top photo is about 1.5 miles upstream from the boiling river "hot pots".<br />
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Montana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-76412770568256647162014-09-06T11:14:00.001-07:002014-09-16T09:38:49.932-07:00Just an Update From the Author<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hey trout fishermen and women! Mike here and I just wanted to say I have once again been busy with work lately. I apologize for the lack of articles and updates. I will continue to do my best by providing weekly reports of the rivers in SW Montana. The few times I have been out this past month I did not do so well. My ego was torn but I will shake it off with the upcoming fall bite. I learned a few things this year but what I realized most was how difficult fly fishing can get in the late summer period. The fish that so eagerly took my Elk Hair Caddis and Adams Parachutes in the early season wanted nothing of them mid to late summer. The high sun and low waters, even though this year had good summer flows, usually make fishing difficult enough as it is. I hope everyone had an excellent summer and caught plenty of memories.<br />
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Give me a week or two to shake things out with work and I'll be back at it, fishing three to four times a week. Tight lines everyone and be safe out there! Spawning browns are right around the corner ;)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdoptqmxJaZywlUitZF1ehNYmYG7_JHnq8ffTMoqp-cKxfvjmzUQ8aIHk45bsJzyB6Wt6mbDXHqNAqEDVu9Y0oFxfH1Pn5m_pB68gY0r8ft1TtGPQtdMmU01DMPYTXNBwDGvaUFJZYoWr/s1600/10636204_10203566176653068_4731912726896864261_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdoptqmxJaZywlUitZF1ehNYmYG7_JHnq8ffTMoqp-cKxfvjmzUQ8aIHk45bsJzyB6Wt6mbDXHqNAqEDVu9Y0oFxfH1Pn5m_pB68gY0r8ft1TtGPQtdMmU01DMPYTXNBwDGvaUFJZYoWr/s1600/10636204_10203566176653068_4731912726896864261_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi91slo55WXG0AMz8alKn5RlSX86ZhKhXRwu0zdSrwgwTDH-NAJpe6cS2l9Wot4buIMork0lO0HLR0Y7zwI-NCxZ7ox4a5oZ2m9QO6x_NVqb0f6ep1JFEAdFYAFP-HjswytGjZZYwQ8VINi/s1600/10636341_10203566175493039_7865483972851524692_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi91slo55WXG0AMz8alKn5RlSX86ZhKhXRwu0zdSrwgwTDH-NAJpe6cS2l9Wot4buIMork0lO0HLR0Y7zwI-NCxZ7ox4a5oZ2m9QO6x_NVqb0f6ep1JFEAdFYAFP-HjswytGjZZYwQ8VINi/s1600/10636341_10203566175493039_7865483972851524692_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
montana trout fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17223720293441624888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-22837736865444489422014-06-30T17:22:00.000-07:002014-06-30T17:26:10.440-07:00Living in the Mountains Good friends of mine are selling their beautiful home in the mountains near Sheridan, Montana. I've spent numerous days on their property, and after realizing how special it is, I would like to share it with the readers of this blog. The first few months after I moved to Bozeman, I was taken to a great home in the Tobacco Root Mountains. Before I ventured the gorgeous drive from the Gallatin Valley to Sheridan I was told how the house looked, where it sat, what it oversaw, and the abundance of wildlife. I remember how excited I was to finally see it, spend time there, to look over the Ruby Valley and enjoy the delightful sunshine. It doesn't surprise me at all that they chose this location and this house. The property itself is eighty acres, subdivided into four twenty acre lots. A trophy bull elk was taken two hundred yards off the porch one year, along with plenty of pronghorn, moose, mule deer, and coyotes. No wonder I enjoyed going out there when I could. There are four mountain ranges within view and several historic towns, including Virginia City, within a short drive.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8lFKaIG9frowFNkwNRvzsLirp4fUvTdhMpICNfMbqioa5haj36OFajGlcuaAfAo-DZu7ykMaiFlp8WiUmTC7zDp3SQxeILSWLrlXZaGYYV6QRt-yzutFt1XoDmU_16AnMG9_VlnfeZLpL/s1600/House1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8lFKaIG9frowFNkwNRvzsLirp4fUvTdhMpICNfMbqioa5haj36OFajGlcuaAfAo-DZu7ykMaiFlp8WiUmTC7zDp3SQxeILSWLrlXZaGYYV6QRt-yzutFt1XoDmU_16AnMG9_VlnfeZLpL/s1600/House1.jpg" height="329" width="640" /></a></div>
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This would be a great house for corporate retreats or a seasonal home to spend the summer in. There is year round access. The property is ninety miles from Bozeman and Yellowstone International Airport. Renowned fly fishing waters are only twenty minutes to an hours drive. These include some of my absolute favorites, the Upper/Lower Madison, Ruby, Yellowstone, and Gallatin rivers. Yellowstone park is also a short drive away. Two miles from the driveway there is access to Beaverhead National Forest, excellent for hunting. I shot my first mule deer last year in these mountains! With all that space you could set up an archery or skeet range, great for sighting in your rifle too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFSOgw1UV4jphkBZXX0SGjvY92Z16jJrADYqTPTY1j9mAuQ4IR9gPsZsscSay80Alphs3ko-CuiqT5_9NCuWTbn0eiOTbkH6e4IbNxzxn_YOpdj719kCiJ-XUnRRZCizmNd26fm6uckvq/s1600/cabin2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFSOgw1UV4jphkBZXX0SGjvY92Z16jJrADYqTPTY1j9mAuQ4IR9gPsZsscSay80Alphs3ko-CuiqT5_9NCuWTbn0eiOTbkH6e4IbNxzxn_YOpdj719kCiJ-XUnRRZCizmNd26fm6uckvq/s1600/cabin2.jpg" height="270" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cabin section of the house</td></tr>
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The spacious house is pretty isolated. No dogs barking, traffic sounds, or loud neighbors having parties, except for the cowboys next door having a good old country bonfire. Really though, you wouldn't even see that as the house is tucked away nicely. While walking in the house for the first time I noticed how big everything was. Huge bedrooms and living spaces with windows looking out over nothing but vast views were hard to miss. The second thing that stuck out to me was the kitchen. Its rustic and has a lot of character. Its very unique, having knotted hickory cabinets with washed copper panels. It goes well with the wood floor and wood burning stove. Outside there is a large deck that covers most of the perimeter, it too looks over a perfect view of the Ruby Valley. There are a few small outbuildings for storing any toys one might have and a gazebo too! Another cool feature is the "cabin room", which is a good sized portion of the house that is, well, a cabin! One of the front doors takes you into this original structure (back from 1978), which also has a wood burning stove and two utility sinks. It was used as a woodworking shop but I could easily see someone making it a comfy living space or rec room.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-hychNe87DrCWhPaMCda5y8VPvZEf_heLnCe5GZrHxb3ZEkdLHTyW027PyLlfiYqVrH3TY02CmtdAXKhIlNZpauWwj6_E1GvMy8-TmzfgdxLR4QxLuceVmlWdNNgxdDuBpB7HVCxgE9zu/s1600/DSCN0341.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-hychNe87DrCWhPaMCda5y8VPvZEf_heLnCe5GZrHxb3ZEkdLHTyW027PyLlfiYqVrH3TY02CmtdAXKhIlNZpauWwj6_E1GvMy8-TmzfgdxLR4QxLuceVmlWdNNgxdDuBpB7HVCxgE9zu/s1600/DSCN0341.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winter view of the Ruby Valley</td></tr>
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<b>Heres a few details in case you or someone you know may be interested</b><br />
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Main level includes: one bedroom, kitchen, dining area, living room, full bath, laundry room.<br />
Upper level includes: two bedrooms, family room, two full baths, extra room<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgj4RVGwDPb0aZsX7Z5ykOQYdLnn0s_3YSzIvht-9kORGhsGsBanDRLRvQMYgphi5HHQTgpG6kdmiDeb2xaWmhfw9HbpGuwDiA4F8Gs_q7QNisqisy7T1nP_rIb8lVHKTkbjCKvWNGazzv/s1600/diningroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgj4RVGwDPb0aZsX7Z5ykOQYdLnn0s_3YSzIvht-9kORGhsGsBanDRLRvQMYgphi5HHQTgpG6kdmiDeb2xaWmhfw9HbpGuwDiA4F8Gs_q7QNisqisy7T1nP_rIb8lVHKTkbjCKvWNGazzv/s1600/diningroom.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a> If you or someone you know is interested you can contact Cindy Morris at 406-209-1104. The listing number is 199110 at Coldwell Banker RCI Realty. Id like to see someone who really enjoys the outdoors, the solitude, and of course the fishing, to have an opportunity to see this great offer. The price is listed at $585,000, which really is a bargain for anyone looking for a place like this.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKy3I2wkALfvrDxILkqYbD-ka7iepriRxHYpdnRc8gSUcHDS2kckX2EfAHwDF446_wmzA4KDo2yHifJmx5CRaXbXTuHfBIsZtTXFW3j_gLk4nKVXDkYlQe7G3Q43_E-I34NM9z3T6h3lC/s1600/8aMasterBed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKy3I2wkALfvrDxILkqYbD-ka7iepriRxHYpdnRc8gSUcHDS2kckX2EfAHwDF446_wmzA4KDo2yHifJmx5CRaXbXTuHfBIsZtTXFW3j_gLk4nKVXDkYlQe7G3Q43_E-I34NM9z3T6h3lC/s1600/8aMasterBed.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj0xNzCWd62EQkbSr0QucXnUEBL-YF9pcfK3vhOcp9DdioXT0H435Bljwqw4rVT-CKI4-3xa8Z_k6tLSaGuwjADZiwnfyb7gKc4A4vQekYUAsouedPu9Aid442yZ_Wd9mnlq8-cw4hadZ_/s1600/frontroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj0xNzCWd62EQkbSr0QucXnUEBL-YF9pcfK3vhOcp9DdioXT0H435Bljwqw4rVT-CKI4-3xa8Z_k6tLSaGuwjADZiwnfyb7gKc4A4vQekYUAsouedPu9Aid442yZ_Wd9mnlq8-cw4hadZ_/s1600/frontroom.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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<br />Montana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-24226352773147864392014-06-09T13:49:00.002-07:002014-09-19T09:24:33.008-07:00Exceptional Spring Creek Fishing: Part 2Continued from previous article "Exceptional Spring Creek Fishing"<br />
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After relaxing in Eva's Hut for a solid thirty minutes, the whole party agreed to head upstream. My hauling arm was burning for more fish. How could fishing be such an upper body workout? Netting a dozen or so lunkers on light tackle is how! Besides the usual neck and shoulder pain from high-sticking so much, nearly all day, I was going to feel sore in all the muscles of my right arm. No matter how tomorrow was going to feel, I kept pushing on for the moment. The weather turned for the worst (not terribly bad but not good either) and consisted of a steady, but light, downpour for the rest of the day. Since leaving Eva's hut we drove up the road and fished a few spots until we pulled into one of the best sections of the whole stream. We parked near a small bridge that confines a large culvert that the creek flows through. Downriver directly outside the culvert, one of the largest and most beautiful trout holes exists. I always take my time and work a few patterns through it but have never hooked up there. I gave the other guys the opportunity to find their spots on the upstream side of the bridge while I fiddled around looking for my twenty pound trout in this seemingly bottomless pit, dark with thick vegetation.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2PXRZcwyxgDEXtZH1h2mqDvThcjrc9Qilu0GZp_tC_W3TqkiR6EkLcszZFbai3iaE_ORdRS9-Z_zhuvYo_cHZ7flszjfOCLLdi-V4YVKKHuTnkd5Yv59lBJxIU1QylYeSy8jKmXfCfmN/s1600/1962747_10202586818969738_887006006_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2PXRZcwyxgDEXtZH1h2mqDvThcjrc9Qilu0GZp_tC_W3TqkiR6EkLcszZFbai3iaE_ORdRS9-Z_zhuvYo_cHZ7flszjfOCLLdi-V4YVKKHuTnkd5Yv59lBJxIU1QylYeSy8jKmXfCfmN/s1600/1962747_10202586818969738_887006006_n.jpg" height="320" width="199" /></a> I struck out below the bridge and joined the others. The stretch consists mostly of tight bends and thick bush surrounding it. From the bridge where we parked to the end of good water is merely a half mile or so. Within those boundaries, subtle trout lies lay. Luckily, I had "leap frogged" amongst the other fishermen and landed at a sweet spot. I remember this particular corner last time I was here, fishing with Mark. He did a pretty good job at cleaning it up then but now it was my turn. Mason, standing belly deep in a spot within sight from me just upstream. The hole has two tight turns and a small overflow of whitewater before it gets washed into deeper water. I don't recall the hole being deep, instead, the transition from the riffles into the feeding zone is a subtle one. The only change in depth is give or take six inches. The whole scene didn't particularly <i>scream</i> fish to me, I knew it was worth my time though. First four casts, to my certain surprise, landed four worthy fish. At this point in my day I was so overstuffed with joy and satisfaction that I couldn't keep my mouth shut. Every time a torpedo trout would take my line, I'd be cheering for myself hoping someone would get a glimpse. After a few moments of joy, adrenaline and a few photos, I took a short break before I gave it another go. Cast after cast, fish after fish, some would get off and others would come in. This was 100% pure bliss for me. Although it may sound easy, let me tell you the amount of concentration I was putting forth was exhausting within itself. So, I started looking at why this little hole was such a great place for big trout. It had occurred later that day the reason most likely for my success was the natural barrier that lay only twenty yards up the creek. The fish navigated to this difficult or impassable structure and got all cozy right below it. They pretty much kicked their shoes off, dug in, and got fat from the feast of insects that were floating downstream.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">"He made a few more good runs before I had him in my possession. I admired this fish briefly, appreciating every second we had together. Another worthy trout, another exceptional day."</span></b></div>
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After possibly the greatest thirty minutes of fishing I had all year, I was ready to walk up and share my joy with Mason. He was serious, doing his thing, trying to hook as many trout before sunset. The piece of stream he was fishing was probably no larger than a master bedroom. The water twisted and turned, finally easing its tension while flowing into less gradient terrain. This less gradient terrain is where the pool formed thus bringing in the trout. I walked a ways up from there and ran into Chris, who was tying on a different fly. From there the section didn't yield many favorable options and had recently been drudged out (evidence of machinery tracks and muddied bottom). I meandered back to the honey hole I found and regrouped with Mark. Mark wasn't surprised at all after I shared with him my results; he and everyone else knew what was swimming in this part of the river, at that particular hole. I happened to nonchalantly be the first to have given it a go. We were now completely soaked despite wearing rain gear from head to toe. At this point I felt like a GI who had just survived his first battle, a little hardened to the sport you could say.We started the short walk back to the car. Trumpeter swans and geese were heard beyond the mist. Every chill I accumulated began to stick, making me tired wet AND cold. No need to worry, we were headed for more trout upstream!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioN96030N_QcVOTD7ROQ2xJZEb5uzFo3__-z_d_9h7AQTjOnOqBxgNcGudSAdm4HTzp4EGjXV-Me5d2dEsTW-_nITcdvTdXc6tRBTs2E8wFWtU092I1jMkGl7ZjTmRDUHzP4BoxTyArBvk/s1600/1511018_10202586821049790_1495599773_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioN96030N_QcVOTD7ROQ2xJZEb5uzFo3__-z_d_9h7AQTjOnOqBxgNcGudSAdm4HTzp4EGjXV-Me5d2dEsTW-_nITcdvTdXc6tRBTs2E8wFWtU092I1jMkGl7ZjTmRDUHzP4BoxTyArBvk/s1600/1511018_10202586821049790_1495599773_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A pair of bulky rainbows caught on the upper section of Depuy's</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifXcLdcVZG4tIvUfWx1bfl-Vzs_N9dNE04JLPVIrGFbV6rVDCXPG6zPVXq2wQtcrRf77koDpKHFQLaUgtC8Xwwn4_Q6sy8lEkyFdQ-j1o1kXwl59vV4NSGuwIutwl6ckhv9-PiLSofhzUg/s1600/10150727_10202586819889761_747619452_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifXcLdcVZG4tIvUfWx1bfl-Vzs_N9dNE04JLPVIrGFbV6rVDCXPG6zPVXq2wQtcrRf77koDpKHFQLaUgtC8Xwwn4_Q6sy8lEkyFdQ-j1o1kXwl59vV4NSGuwIutwl6ckhv9-PiLSofhzUg/s1600/10150727_10202586819889761_747619452_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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The property has on site, a fly shop, which is as small as the warming huts. In front of the store is some great brown trout water. Here, the river is wide and shallow. Still, you could throw a stone across it with little effort and the depth maxes out just below the knee. However, every time I've fished these waters, this is where I end up last. Something to hold on to just in case the previous parts of Depuy's didn't fold earlier. The fishing, again, was absolutely ridiculous. Everywhere I looked one of us had a fish on, sometimes two or more at a time. Clouds began to give way, revealing a very surreal sunset. It seemed as though each cast I made brought the sun down just a little more, until it would be gone. Worn out from the earlier half of the day, I was trying to push myself to cast just a little further, walk just a little more. It paid off. I already had the best day I've ever experienced at Depuy's, why not make it even better?<br />
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Well Mason and I said goodbye to Mark and his friends. We planned on going back to Eva's Hut to find the same action we had that morning. If I didn't have two happy dogs at home waiting to go outside I would have stayed for another hour or two. We quickly hopped on the highway and back through the first entrance. At Eva's Hut we took no time getting back in the water. Mason went his way and I went mine for our last chance at another quality fish with maybe twenty minutes left in the day. I heard first, then saw, three or four cast-worthy trout. They were feeding in shallow water, dorsal and caudal fins poking out of the water. I had tied on my trusty eggy and my own variation of Marks "Blue Midge", with a size twenty hook. A stealthy downstream crossing put me at just the right position for a backhand cast. My targets were hugging my side of the bank, very close to the thick, grassy undercut bank. I cast my line, take one half step forward and cast again, landing my flies twelve inches in front of my prey. My indicator alerted me to the take just half a second before my drag started squealing. I caught the attention of two gentlemen who had started fishing downstream. I had to step about three feet off the bank into ankle deep water where my last trout of the day was laying. He made a few more good runs before I had him in my possession. I admired this fish briefly, appreciating every second we had together. Another worthy trout, another exceptional day. One of the fishermen who was near us came up and gave us a few of his "Depuy Killer Flies". They were some natural looking blood midge pupae on a sixteen long-shafted hook, I took them home with me and tied some of my own for next time. Exhausted, we packed up and drove home.<br />
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We say numbers don't matter but that day I landed over fifteen beautiful trout. The smallest was maybe sixteen and the biggest was close to twenty, average being seventeen to eighteen inches. Its days like these that give us a taste of how great the fishing can be. Lets not forget about the days we get skunked either. When I leave the river without hooking a fish, it only feeds my desire to find days like this at Depuy's. During the summer months the price doubles to spend a day at this place. I'll stick with my freestones and tail-waters until fall. Fish on all!<br />
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Pictures to be added soon!<br />
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Montana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-52408249504989191612014-06-06T11:25:00.003-07:002014-10-12T11:13:38.565-07:00Chasing Grayling and Big Cutties<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlseQx66QGH_Mz6650qfjrOISipNosjHBO6Objxg-PawBAScMtOJmA4LCaSa7bHr9_7032dCclitT5mrXUSjjJgPQL2Z9euv55OXzhVFESXYce7qb17QI95vMnxFyobm2qTEj22PalsJMs/s1600/10333268_10202993317331943_6678564478808003046_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlseQx66QGH_Mz6650qfjrOISipNosjHBO6Objxg-PawBAScMtOJmA4LCaSa7bHr9_7032dCclitT5mrXUSjjJgPQL2Z9euv55OXzhVFESXYce7qb17QI95vMnxFyobm2qTEj22PalsJMs/s1600/10333268_10202993317331943_6678564478808003046_o.jpg" height="304" width="640" /></a></div>
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I found myself debating on whether or not to make the thirty minute drive up Hyalite Canyon in pursuit of whatever it was I could find, I wasn't even certain. I had to tell myself to go or I would end up sitting inside, tying flies until my back screamed for mercy. The weather was hanging between rainy and windy, and really rainy and cold. I knew the fishing would be great If I could find the fish though. I'm fairly familiar with my local waters, where to go at what time of year, and of course, what to use and when. Most of my local fish habitat is blown out this time of year and I was just itching for some mediocre fishing. I had in mind a place I've heard of many times. Locals talk about it but it seemed harder to get there at the right time than even trying to bother waiting for the right conditions. Winding up the narrow mountain road, past what seems like endless pocket water full of brookies, I was heading for a reservoir. It was difficult not to stop before getting to my destination. Bigger fish are ahead I told myself as I passed one of my favorite runs this time of year, bigger fish are ahead. Like I said, I wasn't sure what I was looking for, I just know I wanted to fish the reservoir with either chironomids or streamers from the bank.<br />
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To my surprise, when I reached the top of Hyalite Canyon Road, the reservoir was full of white caps. The wind was harsh and cold as if it were blowing straight off the mountains themselves. It was seventy degrees at my home before I left, but here I was barely prepared to stand the elements, let alone fish into the awful wind. My spirit was a bit bruised. I felt the urge to explore a little, but knew I would probably turn around and go home. I figured the drive up the canyon was as good as sitting at home. Before I turned back, I noticed the road to the upper section was now open. The stories of what lie ahead popped up in my head. The destination I wanted to check out was only a mile or so down this old dirt road which is closed many days of the year. The road follows the steep banks of Hyalite Reservoir for only a couple of miles. I was looking for where upper Hyalite Creek flowed into the reservoir. The small, whitewater stream feeds fast flowing water right into the high elevation reservoir. Most of the year this location is flooded, taking away the structure of channels that attract the fish before they head up the stream to reproduce. There's actually a sign posted that says "fishing above this sign is off limits until July", after the cutthroat spawn. When people talked about being here at the right time, they mean the cutty spawn, when the reservoir<br />
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There are a few reasons the outlet of the upper creek is such a hot spot for fish. Cutthroat rainbows and grayling stack up here for a few reasons. The rainbows follow the cuttys during spawning and feast upon the eggs that drift freely downstream. The other reason may seem obvious as well; colder water and current flow. This outlet of water is the greatest structure in the whole reservoir. I could walk miles of the shoreline, throwing wooly buggers along the banks, hoping to hook a lone cruiser or two. But here was something special. At the outlet, I desired a place that 1.) hadn't been fished hard since ice-over, 2.) has a steady number of fish moving in and out all day 3.) brings in the native cutthroat on their way to spawn. Of course, these were factors I had in my head, and the reasons I wanted to find this so called honey hole. I was unsure of what the conditions might be.<br />
I pulled up to a two car pull-off on the south end of the lake. Right away I could tell the lake level had not yet risen to undesired levels. I actually looked out through the rain and saw a rather dull sight. Heavy waves and gusts of wind were pounding the muddy banks. I couldnt see my destination, it was just around the corner behind a boggy, muddy, stinky swamp-like flat. I had to navigate through what reminded me of a mangrove swamp. Small channels of nasty, bacteria filled water blocked my path. I would have to climb over a hundred dead bushes in order to keep my feet dry. So I backed out and headed back down the dirt road. Either my curiosity or my urge to fish got to me. I turned around and parked back into the small space, turning off the ignition as a statement saying "I'm here to stay now". I thought I would get a little dirty, but I wanted to see if these channels were fishable, I had nothing to lose. I zipped up my rain jacket and made my way through the maze that was the bog. Next time I will be bringing my waders I thought, as I jumped another small, stagnate piece of orange colored water. It was too easy to imagine a bull moose or grizzly bear rummaging around back there. I wasnt surprised to see bear tracks when I saw them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNv8oXp3zQ3yUbt3mU9tyDWDCNH_JSBTSVEmfAtKTxzI_vgImcV5rmNhLMgHkfhS4sRq3wf6HmiumizEOKZVBR8HDzGiKbTa5_Z6Px7WRe8mqDBNwupqA6d6e_cDV5F_U4F-K9ZAaPisrV/s1600/10285356_10202993316891932_720689190151133784_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNv8oXp3zQ3yUbt3mU9tyDWDCNH_JSBTSVEmfAtKTxzI_vgImcV5rmNhLMgHkfhS4sRq3wf6HmiumizEOKZVBR8HDzGiKbTa5_Z6Px7WRe8mqDBNwupqA6d6e_cDV5F_U4F-K9ZAaPisrV/s1600/10285356_10202993316891932_720689190151133784_o.jpg" height="136" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a new personal best cutthroat from Hyalite Reservoir, caught on a #20 caddis pupae</td></tr>
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I made it out of the bog with dry feet, I succeeded! My first glance at the water I was going to fish was a sight to see! There before my eyes was a beautiful piece of water, no longer than twenty five yards. I had it all to myself too. A few fly fishermen were on the shore across from me just within yelling distance. Up ahead I saw the sign, maybe fifty yards away, and below that the upper Hyalite Creek raged around a corner, slowing its release right into the pool I was about to fish. The water flew around, jetted over a shallow rock bar, and slowed down as the water deepened. I didnt know what I was getting myself into. I was unsure if someone had already hammered this spot. It would be very easy for one man to cover the hole by himself, and there wouldn't be a lot of room to share. However given the time of day, only 9:00 am, I imagined I was the first here. I spent no time rigging up a San Juan worm and small caddis pupae under one BB sized split-shot and an indicator roughly seven feet up from there. I took a few minutes to finish my cigarette and watch the water. I couldn't help but breath the mountain air in deeply while I gazed at the surrounding Fridley, Blackmore, and Hyalite peaks. Fortunately for me I was in the right place at the right time. What I was about to experience was one of those moments that will stay with me until the day I no longer walk this earth.<br />
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....To be continuedMontana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-21157046881544766152014-04-21T09:59:00.003-07:002014-04-21T10:00:09.763-07:00Exceptional Spring Creek Fishing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-2p83aKW7QIgUOAWpryBZ0dTyeqsWy0VUXrdcftqVAzMzqs5pzhN_GHfmiiOtAiFrLjjbDmRQ3pSWgB9CeqoPyxz-ZM6X0GKfTD_lmT3DbbFiLKQoXeOCC3ZksXYr49yMzLG5hY9_tK25/s1600/1660306_10202599651850552_798554129_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-2p83aKW7QIgUOAWpryBZ0dTyeqsWy0VUXrdcftqVAzMzqs5pzhN_GHfmiiOtAiFrLjjbDmRQ3pSWgB9CeqoPyxz-ZM6X0GKfTD_lmT3DbbFiLKQoXeOCC3ZksXYr49yMzLG5hY9_tK25/s1600/1660306_10202599651850552_798554129_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
Exceptional fishing at spring creeks doesn't always happen. For many, spring creeks are often perceived as challenging. The water is crystal clear and in many areas no deeper than ten inches. Trout see you coming from a mile away and are very skiddish. A fly line carelessly flopped across the surface will cast a shadow that could spook the lunker you're casting to. Hatches become particularly specific many times of the year and the trout are selective during feeding. Its important to understand the fundamentals of entomology before stepping into these demanding waters. There are however some factors that make spring creeks the most desirable of all the fisheries. The predictable flows and temperatures make conditions nearly ideal no matter what the weather is doing. The water is always around forty-five degrees. Life long fish that never leave the creeks grow to huge lengths. Fish migrate to these creeks for ideal spawning conditions and substantial food. Insects thrive in these year-round warm ecosystems as well. Also one of my favorite things about many spring creeks is that they only have a maximum number of rods per day. With the decreased pressure and size of some spring creeks, finding solitude and quality fishing is easy.<br />
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Like mentioned above, some anglers feel a sense of challenge towards spring creeks. I feel the same way. While heading out for my recent trip, and even the night before, I felt extreme anxiety. I felt the pressure to fulfill my moneys worth and anticipated the amount of effort and skill I would have to put forth. I knew that prior trips left me exhausted, some with good results and others with very little success. This time around, however, I knew it would be good, maybe <i>easy</i>. The spring rainbow spawn is underway and for a fact the fish are stacking up at Depuys. The previous night I tied plenty of Blue Midges and WD-40's, both sizes 18-20 along with plenty of orange Eggys, which I had hoped would be all I needed. It was a beautiful drive from Bozeman to Paradise Valley, as it always is. Its a trip I will always remember as Ive made it many times before in the early hours of the day. Giant mountains loom in all directions and wildlife is all but hidden. Every turn and bend in the river is as picturesque as a Montana post card.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marks first cast fish- gota love those!</td></tr>
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We pulled into Eva's hut which is the warming hut at the bottom section of the property after we paid and said hello to Betty, the property hostess. We met up with a few friends, so there were five of us all together. Someone started up the wood stove as we talked and finished our coffees. Outside a few of us discussed what was good to tie on and rigged our lines with various double nymph setups. We agreed the Eggy was the ticket and that there were plenty of midges on the water. It was 8:15 am, the weather was nice, light fog at the time with a calmness in the air. The surrounding mountain-scape was hidden by low lying clouds, like smoke. It was ideal conditions to start a perfect day in a perfect place! Eva's hut is within a few steps to the river. One at a time as we finished getting ready we all walked to the water.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First cast of the day at Depuy Spring Creek</td></tr>
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Like many other outings to Depuys, the first twenty minutes are almost always guaranteed good fun. Collectively we had pulled in fifteen worthy trout and it had not even been fifteen minutes. Its quiet a sight actually, to see how the fish get spooked by the commotion of reeling in their buddies. Within an hour this whole stretch turned into a normal fishery again. I told Mason how this happens every time I'm here. How the fishing is incredible those first few casts then becomes a lock box allowing no room for error. Mentally I began preparing myself for the tasks ahead. After the slaying slowed down I sat my rod aside and went to see how everyone else was doing. I figured I had my fun and was in no hurry to get serious. Just while sitting on the bank watching everyone I could see trout everywhere. The football sized fish were dancing over their redds, spashing, coming nearly all the way out of the water as they rolled about spawning. The sizes of some of these fish made my heart beat faster. The sight of it all reminded me of salmon migrating upstream.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDxHPFTtKxUxtcZIZZOnBtfy932lLnFwSEZnCyYgGFjdN9ZeXLUKh8ZoAI3kP0MyJF79K_T9Pqo0-3PtNv4zGvVb0cti4ZZZlj-_UFLyY7PUsJ4bxgPsApTBy7yZRbmwJS2RMl33DqlfRI/s1600/ddd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDxHPFTtKxUxtcZIZZOnBtfy932lLnFwSEZnCyYgGFjdN9ZeXLUKh8ZoAI3kP0MyJF79K_T9Pqo0-3PtNv4zGvVb0cti4ZZZlj-_UFLyY7PUsJ4bxgPsApTBy7yZRbmwJS2RMl33DqlfRI/s1600/ddd.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a> After a few hours I was hoping I could find untouched water. Mason and I decided to head all the way to the bottom of the spring creek, the area that is nearest to where the Yellowstone River comes in to feed it. We walked maybe ten minutes before stopping at the first hole. He went to a spot I had suggested and I went down twenty more yards to a nice spot. It was not a redd but a nice hole maybe four feet deep and ten feet long. I cast my line into the riffle up ahead and let my line drift slowly down. Sure enough, I hooked into a seventeen inch rainbow. Well this was good I thought. I was now catching fish when I knew it wouldn't be easy. I ended up catching three more hefty fish before I hooked something massive. I thought I was snagged until whatever it was sped upstream faster than I could sprint on land. My rod instantly went horizontal and before I could pull it up the fish had caught my drag so fast it broke me off. I knew that if I had kept this fish on the hook, there would be no way I could have landed it. I was using a four weight rod that day which is considered small for moderate sized fish. Each big fish I did catch became an extreme battle. Some fish were so big I could hardly "pull them" from their line in the current. It wasn't unusual to look at me that day with my rod nearly bent in half. That's part of the challenge I enjoy though, as spin fisherman have their ultralights, I had my four weight.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2PRBDW00kg6NTiCDjvaPKZAPOJGLDauN7LP4DY10mR8m2NjhukECAwO8npdUtSR74WXi-ZCE9x7FdXiXbVR19BTog6DARNnxoMhd-hf5pK-_W6Aa_biAZr3O3Iydzx5Cy9nDrPDcQ9Vp7/s1600/10153161_10202586820529777_1757809157_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2PRBDW00kg6NTiCDjvaPKZAPOJGLDauN7LP4DY10mR8m2NjhukECAwO8npdUtSR74WXi-ZCE9x7FdXiXbVR19BTog6DARNnxoMhd-hf5pK-_W6Aa_biAZr3O3Iydzx5Cy9nDrPDcQ9Vp7/s1600/10153161_10202586820529777_1757809157_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a> Mason and I regrouped. He wanted to fish a hole so I kicked around in the water for a few. It wasnt long before I could hear splashing downstream. Closer inspection, ten to fifteen rainbows all having a good time near some redds. I walked even closer and began thinking of ways to approach in a stealthy manner. I ended up waiting for Mason so he could get in on the fun. Besides, this is the exact spot I wrote previously about having learned a life lesson in fly fishing, maybe this could teach him an invaluable lesson as well. I have a short pep talk and let him try first. My novice friend casts and casts again until his flies land above the fish. His casts are great and at first the flies land a little short, behind the rainbows. It wasnt long until his line was rolling right through the sweet spot. Sometimes the indicator goes under, Mason sets the hook. He's either hitting bottom causing the strike indicator to go down or the hook is coming out of the fishes mouth. I couldnt help but noticed the power he was putting into the hook set. Its easy to let adrenaline overcome the finesse needed. I even mentioned that he was going to rip the hook right out and I could tell he was getting impatient. Something wasnt right when he didnt hook up after plenty of perfect casts. The fish were still there clear as day, splashing about. Mason brought his line in to inspect his flies. The look on his face when he realized he was fishing with no hooks, only line, and that he had a fish on but set the hook so hard it broke his line, was priceless. Im sure that he learned something here, as I did last year, that will make him a better fisherman (see A Day at Depuys for my lesson learned). Its critical to "feel" on the hook set when fishing for trout. These were heavy trout and Mason was using 5 and 6X tippet which is only two to three pound test line.<br />
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With so many fish under my belt already I headed back to Eva's hut for some lunch. I met Chris when he offered me a local IPA in a green can. By now everyone else was sitting around the table trading flies and cracking beer tops. We were all hooking into fish and it was only noon. I could see out the window all the trout that were moving back up. More and more were splashing around the creek now. It was nice to warm up next to the fire but I was itching for another tug of war with a beastly trout....to be continued!<br />
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<br />Montana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-30310741346682285812014-01-13T15:38:00.005-08:002014-01-13T18:20:16.654-08:00Winter Bliss: A Perfect Day With Mykiss, Salmo Trutta and Williamsoni <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7P1QjHcK1_Nyh7Vk4BlF5ukUuLoySfIpPyQ1hRGMDLpAN1Fa9KDxVDN0IrpxwIOeiXAh6PFfvYn6Hb5SqhhhBsC14o0YY1lAfkUt_w8hwi7TpmaJYE60wQqVyXgVlDT0XEo60tFw57uGz/s1600/est.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7P1QjHcK1_Nyh7Vk4BlF5ukUuLoySfIpPyQ1hRGMDLpAN1Fa9KDxVDN0IrpxwIOeiXAh6PFfvYn6Hb5SqhhhBsC14o0YY1lAfkUt_w8hwi7TpmaJYE60wQqVyXgVlDT0XEo60tFw57uGz/s320/est.jpg" width="240" /></a> On a perfect spring, summer, or fall day, one would usually not hesitate to jump in the car and head towards crystal clear waters full of hungry fish. I cannot imagine sporting a t-shirt or light fleece and trudging through refreshingly cool water in the pursuit of my obsession. To sit down next to a near perfect fishing hole with the pleasant feeling of the sun hitting my back and neck sounded heavenly. It's the sinuous, warm breeze often providing a harmonious rhythm along side the undulating tone of water. The creatures that hide themselves while I make haste begin to reveal themselves as I sit motionless near the bank. Mule deer, whitetails, moose, and otters are a few critters that I share these waters with. Even birds and waterfowl, as meager as they seem, will cause me to stop what I'm doing and stare with appreciation. It's days like these that "fishing" may not be why I am out here at all. I might as well leave the pole in the car, but catching a fish would be a nice bonus on such a perfect day.<br />
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This winter feels especially cold, much colder than last year. Cabin fever has set in. I know that fishing follows the same aspects during the winter as my activity outdoors declines. The fish slow down and the fishing isn't worth writing home about if the temperature is below thirty-two degrees. At the first glimpse of a thirty-eight to forty degree day, you can bet that I will be heading towards my escape.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSxpEGvEYGdBhixKMAYQBHw3c-bzQlwnCBvk0ZSsZzt_3IdaUtzFeRauLtpBQt7fy15IKRQAR7KbYqk7pTN-oxuZvqpZCzEh9PuDEYElLeyIhlVk4foUI3bb7AHJRS7XeTpN4JB-uDTMUX/s1600/brown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSxpEGvEYGdBhixKMAYQBHw3c-bzQlwnCBvk0ZSsZzt_3IdaUtzFeRauLtpBQt7fy15IKRQAR7KbYqk7pTN-oxuZvqpZCzEh9PuDEYElLeyIhlVk4foUI3bb7AHJRS7XeTpN4JB-uDTMUX/s320/brown.jpg" width="320" /></a> This particular mid-winter outing was a blessing for not only my sanity but for my overall quality of life. To some, fishing is as I explained previously, a good reason to enjoy the outdoors. But for others, fishing satisfies the soul. Setting out to accomplish the task of reeling in a beautiful specimen from a beautiful, untainted body of water is something we've tried to express in articles for decades. No longer are we fishing for the survival of our families but for sport. A half day jaunt into their world only to succeed in what we set out to do is a very good feeling. Walking in and out of mother nature's world only to catch, photograph, and release trout; leaving no sign or trace except for the digital files I take is a win in my book. On this mild day in January, I found all of this remains true to me and a very blissful experience followed.<br />
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The middle of winter submitted to a wonderful fifty degree day. I was lucky enough to be off of work on this day and I knew just what I was going to do. I arrived at the river around noon. It was nice to leave the jeep without gloves, a mask, or a hat. I didnt care how the fishing was, the day was too perfect to be indoors. I remember having the feeling that I was the only person fishing or perhaps the first person to fish this river since fall of last year. The woods and stream had a remarkable vibe that day. The instant that I stepped into this world something engulfed me, I started to get that feeling deep inside. This wasn't the picture perfect day like I had been dreaming about but it was its own unique blend of pristine serenity and beauty. I had miles of shimmering river that was mine to fish alone, which I generally enjoy. Not to say I dont enjoy fishing with friends, but fishing alone is what I enjoy most. While I made my way to my honey hole, which is about a mile walk around tight bends and through several crossings, I had spooked several mule deer which in return spooked me. Eagles gazed down at me as I passed under their perches. I thought I could toss them a trout and make some friends out here. On this day I was happy to be outside and with all I've seen I could have left happy. Then I started thinking about why I was here. I had the urge to catch fish.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqj0pP61xeqbKYV73qEPN8uqgUgVlhl3WYXqt_vwgplhyRvtqGHAGyyKqPe9wGBB2bB2jtKCd2tYE53mgv7EvIPKhf8pJ8cRNdADLh07g3FQbRKuWoNk9MBotGTTP0nB7gAbp5tjlgOQdV/s1600/whitey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqj0pP61xeqbKYV73qEPN8uqgUgVlhl3WYXqt_vwgplhyRvtqGHAGyyKqPe9wGBB2bB2jtKCd2tYE53mgv7EvIPKhf8pJ8cRNdADLh07g3FQbRKuWoNk9MBotGTTP0nB7gAbp5tjlgOQdV/s320/whitey.jpg" width="240" /></a> As simple as the phrase "catch fish" sounds, its really quiet deep. This was no task of simply putting on a lure and casting for fish. I was in predator mode, trout slayer mode. It was such a perfect day, however I had yet to please my urges. If I had brought a partner with me it would've been hard to hide my excitement. Like a bass angler sizing up his competition during a tournament, I too was sizing up my opponent; the river. Many say when it comes to trout fishing, that slower is better. Its taken me two years to focus on this idea. Fishing slow for trout can mean fifty different things. Today, me being slow means walking and moving slow while near water that holds fish. I also vowed to myself to fish each hole with more patience, allowing nearly four times the length of time I would usually fish one spot. My bad habits include making ten casts and moving on to the next hole or run. My theory today was conjured with the idea of catching the most fish possible (have to catch as many as I can). The ideology behind the fishing slow is good for a few reasons; mostly because the trout were still cold and a bit lethargic. Fishing slow gives the trout more time to see and consume my flies. It paid off very well.<br />
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I fished my honey hole harder than I would have during warmer seasons. This spot was like a control in an experiment. If I couldn't take my time and catch fish here, I wasn't going to have much luck anywhere on this river. Normally I will fish with general flies that I know work; san juan worm, girdle bug, leech, eggy, blue midge etc. but this day I managed to retie a few times until I found something that worked. I managed to slow down, be patient, cast, cast, retie, cast, retie, repeat, repeat repeat and it paid off! I landed six trout once I had figured out what they were eating. The fly of choice by hungry trout happened to be a number twenty-two olive midge nymph. They were going nuts for it! I finally dialed into exactly what they were feeding on.<br />
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During my walk back to the jeep, a small riffle of water quietly flows into a 15x10x3ft pool and catches my eye. A stealthy approach gets me within viewing distance and I see nothing but cold dark water seemingly void of all life through my polarized glasses. Should I keep moving or gamble wasting time on such a small pool? Maybe they were holding tight against the sides. I plan my assault, observing everything about this deep little pocket of water such as how I imagine the bottom to be, possible depth, current, obstructions, fish flashes. First cast into what seemed like a hopeless, lifeless body of water and I get snagged. The snag suddenly turned into the shape of a golden silver torpedo as he started to fight, reflecting light off his sleek body. I was just stoked! I was amazed at how many trout and whitefish were in this small pool or water. Life was literally thriving everywhere. From there on, every hole I stopped at held many, many fish. They were stacked up in these holes which I had fished so hard on my way to the honey hole. The right fly was the game changer it seemed. I took my time and landed a dozen fish and hooked twice as many on my way back.<br />
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While my trail merged with another, I spoke with a fly fisherman who was just getting back from fishing upstream. We exchanged info. In that I learned he hadn't had the great day that I did. The empty hole in my soul was now stuffed with satisfaction of a day well fished. We walked back to our cars together talking about what a great day we had. I showed him what I had used to catch my trout and he was happy to be informed. We had a lot in common I realized in just those few minutes we chatted. We were the few who yearn for such days, and the only ones taking advantage of this particular day. I knew that despite this older gentlemen being skunked, he had just as great of a day as I did. I took a moment to reflect these thoughts. More often than not we're out there alone. It's either a guide with a client or a couple when I see pairs. I love this place because of fly fishing, if not for fly fishing I wouldn't fully experience it. I feel fortunate to have discovered the world of fly fishing and trout in big sky country. Fly fishing has mended with my spirit just like the connection of a mighty trout through a fly rod. Tight lines all!<br />
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Montana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-30255444786241116532014-01-04T07:27:00.001-08:002021-04-01T08:34:48.960-07:00A Very 101 Dry Fly Discussion, Part 1 <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heavy caddis hatch on the Madison River</td></tr>
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Throughout my trout fishing adventure I've learned many things. Like anyone stepping into a new hobby, I wasn't sure how I would respond to the learning process. I was worried I would invest a good amount of time and money into something I would later end up not enjoying. I had the idea that I could always resort to my spinning reel if all else failed. The first few months into my fly fishing odyssey I had a lot of doubt. I was ever so frustrated and I didn't have the patience it seemed to require. Many aspects brought me down such as not catching as many fish, spending more time retying tangled leaders and learning to cast with so many variables. All of these barriers must be experienced before moving onto the next steps . I've got my casting down, I know the basic flies to use and I can read the water to find the fish. I succeeded in the basics without giving up. The days that the few flies I had would not work, would give me a feeling of loss, all the while I was making two hundred casts each day. Even though I may not have been catching the high numbers of fish I had anticipated, I was still getting a lot of important casting practice. It doesn't matter which fly you use if you cant put your line where you want it.<br />
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Now that I have the hardest part behind me I can look forward to the great world that fly fishing is. I spent so many hours focusing on the basics in that first year that I hadn't had time to remember all the vast possibilities that are out there; dry fly fishing is one of them. I was re-introduced to dry flies by a friend during the summer of '13, and this particular day we had a grand time. We stood in the East Gallatin around five o'clock pm.. The two of us had rigged the usual double nymph style set up and were ready to fish. We noticed a lot of bugs flying around and the fish were rising every so often. My trout stalking accomplice suggested its time to put on a dry fly, and with his many more years experience, I happily obliged. My first cast landed a twelve inch brownie. I positioned my elk hair caddis just along the inside of a small eddie. Within only five feet and in the blink of an eye the trout took my fly. My fishing partner tied on a #16 yellow stimulator and was catching them every third cast. The fish were turned on as a thunderstorm was off in the distance, swirling towards us. A few hours later my company left. I was having such a good time I stayed a couple hours more. I walked back down river and fished the whole section all over again and had great success. I can thank my friend and a tiny little fly called the elk hair caddis for the excellent fishing that day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiysy0OMriTnLeBD0yj1Dqe-qyKoOc2_mac1EfEpPqEcKItXkNNytIZH_3zbVt_3MOVYx3lJjMaMfPRvpOr8CrtWfB86e5FLU_RJ5wAWbsqrqrJOzq2PJeSbByW7d1nPbwpyvSuXVC0p9i6/s1600/caddis+2.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiysy0OMriTnLeBD0yj1Dqe-qyKoOc2_mac1EfEpPqEcKItXkNNytIZH_3zbVt_3MOVYx3lJjMaMfPRvpOr8CrtWfB86e5FLU_RJ5wAWbsqrqrJOzq2PJeSbByW7d1nPbwpyvSuXVC0p9i6/s320/caddis+2.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caddisfly clinging near the Gallatin River</td></tr>
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The next few days I reminisced about the top water action I enjoyed so much. It felt like I had a child pulling at my pant leg each day, always on my mind. I was yearning for the dry fly bite again. I hooked into some good fish one evening and did again the next day on the same stretch. I had set myself up for some serious trial and error, learning along the way. I was avidly keeping mental notes on what and where would and wouldn't produce fish. I had probably caught anywhere between fifteen and twenty fish each day and lost twice as many. It seemed the fish were growing ever so aware of what I was throwing and I had to switch through half a dozen or so colors and patterns. The third day my fly of choice was a # 18 olive adams dry fly. I remember seeing a few mayflies on the surface being taken by trout. The caddis out numbered the mayflies 20:1 but fish were eagerly coming to the surface for my adams.<br />
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You may have heard the phrase "matching the hatch" before. Well how important is it to match the hatch? Since this is a 101 article, I am going to keep it simple for now. When it comes to using dry flies, you need to know what insect it represents. Some flies imitate a broad range of flying bugs while others hone in on one specific insect. So besides the shape of the fly, the right color and the right size are also very important. There are a handful of dry fly patterns that will work well on any given day. Chances are, If you happen to have a few of these flies in your box, and the trout are rising, you wont be displeased.<br />
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Elk Hair Caddis #'s 20-14 dark/tan<br />
Parachute Adams #'s 20-14 dark colors, olive, tan<br />
Stimulator #20-16 orange<br />
Blue Winged Olive #'s 22-18<br />
Royal Wulff #'s 22-14<br />
Griffiths Gnat #'s 22-14 dry fly/emerger<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEideB37BQLOdonGJuejqDpU8ZxMdV_jUTP-EQ73SOpVVJyNU3lLebpdeG7h5Cs30M7waR0aRpmfQkNakacgZm_i4s2IwsKudz53LzpQXVOJzZDLyixOh9tztQoudvDEX_IiEQDdxN5tgjFK/s1600/adams+dry.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEideB37BQLOdonGJuejqDpU8ZxMdV_jUTP-EQ73SOpVVJyNU3lLebpdeG7h5Cs30M7waR0aRpmfQkNakacgZm_i4s2IwsKudz53LzpQXVOJzZDLyixOh9tztQoudvDEX_IiEQDdxN5tgjFK/s320/adams+dry.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adams dry fly, East Gallatin Cutbow</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnL0c5MiWpq1RyUqLBlWZScfkZNWHlP0_siuYIkIVqY1IedA-6h0O1XJh0qLHH2rbIY202teNTGxBK7QuaEK5gjlJ0hoh1eEdQBdW7N5vmitZ0XfdEQW94Xx4zo7_4D8dRNNeq0M32QzV3/s1600/elk+hair.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnL0c5MiWpq1RyUqLBlWZScfkZNWHlP0_siuYIkIVqY1IedA-6h0O1XJh0qLHH2rbIY202teNTGxBK7QuaEK5gjlJ0hoh1eEdQBdW7N5vmitZ0XfdEQW94Xx4zo7_4D8dRNNeq0M32QzV3/s320/elk+hair.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elk hair caddis, East Gallatin</td></tr>
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As a beginner, like myself, its difficult to look at an insect and know exactly what species it is. There are so many species of flies that hatch and emerge at certain times of the day, it can be very important to understand what the trout are eating during that hour. Its not completely necessary to know, but this ability will give you more options when you're out on the water or the trout are being picky. My general knowledge of dry flies has taught me a few things. The five major insects groups that trout eat are midges, mayflies, caddisflies, stoneflies, and salmonflies. Each one has many different species which vary in size and color. It wouldnt hurt for a beginner fly fisherman to do some research on these five groups and be able to identify them while out in the water. This could mean the difference between putting on an elk hair caddis or a parachute adams. Once the you've found out whats flying around, you can start to look for a pattern that imitates not only the shape, but also the right size and color of whats on the menu. The reward will be worth it!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9if3AVrbzNGo1S6WH0ukpP0H1LpdAwIEvT0iV3bziLAzaP6nsPODQXDTf7sdK09mQN8WXy7RkFeV6V5o7Dthkgzc3I4oeWQmR-9oJ6__ywMA3JcIrQQKcV0exYaln4eM0UTvL69s8XPK/s1600/caddis+1.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9if3AVrbzNGo1S6WH0ukpP0H1LpdAwIEvT0iV3bziLAzaP6nsPODQXDTf7sdK09mQN8WXy7RkFeV6V5o7Dthkgzc3I4oeWQmR-9oJ6__ywMA3JcIrQQKcV0exYaln4eM0UTvL69s8XPK/s400/caddis+1.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
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The more pressure I put on the fish, the harder they were to catch later. They would no longer come up to eat my peacock elk hair caddis like the first day. Many more days I returned for the hot action and it seemed that the fish had simply seen too many elk hair caddis flies. The general shape of the elk hair caddis is good for imitating all sorts of caddis species. The trout were smart and realized this was no longer meeting their requirements. They were more hesitant to take their time looking at the fly before wolfing it down. Not to say this stretch of heavily hit river will be void of all elk hair caddis action, but the older fish become more finicky and more specific patterns need to be presented. I will add that my friend and I were probably the first to heavily fish this section of river since early winter the previous year. The fish, like I said, were becoming more specific in their needs; This occurs day to day throughout the year. What worked one day wouldn't catch any fish the next, etc. The more flies a person can keep in their vest or bag will increase the odds if that person knows how to use them.Montana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-87710904634592328322013-11-21T14:08:00.002-08:002015-08-09T06:58:08.458-07:00A Word About the Copper John <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOVmBViRNLj-cT2MsQJ2XO2meXBpQB8ol4qhQ0M04r8K8Mt1E4NoUKjbuZbOzXYHo3lyy4QSrPlZKduPVv5K9HBJc2rD_C61C7KlumCW7LVfELR8G23o-0ApCgsgh27nd5JXB2t8guPuNA/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOVmBViRNLj-cT2MsQJ2XO2meXBpQB8ol4qhQ0M04r8K8Mt1E4NoUKjbuZbOzXYHo3lyy4QSrPlZKduPVv5K9HBJc2rD_C61C7KlumCW7LVfELR8G23o-0ApCgsgh27nd5JXB2t8guPuNA/s200/download.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">generic Copper John fly</td></tr>
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This article is going to be all about the Copper John wet nymph fly. The Copper John is one of the most common nymphs out there to date and for good reasons, it catches a ton of fish! The Copper John went through a period of changes during 1993 when it was first tied and the tier, John Barr, was happy with it by 1996. Most importantly, John found a good pattern of materials that worked exceptionally well any time of the year. This particular fly doesn't resemble any one insect, but instead acts as a number of them. I recently started tying the Copper John myself, as they aren't a beginner fly to start tying, and have had a lot of fun adding my own unique bits and pieces to them.<br />
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The traditional "CJ" comes in one standard color design. Typically, a copper bead is in front of the thorax comprised of peacock hurl, feathers and thin skin. Behind the body of the fly are two biots that sit snugly underneath a layer of copper wire. This is the Copper John! It comes in all sizes from 12 all the way down to a #22 hook, and can be fished as a lead or dropper fly. Some folks incorporate thin lead to help build profile and bring the fly down to the bottom of the river faster. The fun part I must say about tying these, as you see in my photos, is that you can use about any color or type of materials you want to give your CJ a very unique look. I was fiddling around one day and tied a few that look similar but have their small differences. I enjoy using red copper wire along with red biots instead of the standard brown or black biots and copper wire. <br />
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When I fish with these types of nymphs I usually decide between the Copper John, Lightning Bug, or Pheasant Tail. I prefer the Lightning Bug in silver over the other two but all of them are very good choices and catch fish year around. The CJ is best fished in my opinion as the dropper, depending on the size, and drug along with the current right on the bottom of the river or stream. Split shot is probably necessary to get the flies down to the bottom as soon as possible.<br />
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If you are new to fly fishing you may not have purchased or tied a Copper John yet. I recommend every fly fisherman has several of each size in their box. The CJ is a good search pattern to find the fish and will work on the coldest days of winter into the hottest parts of summer. I hope you can learn from this short article and catch a few more trout with this specific fly. If they aren't hitting on the surface, maybe tie on a Copper John and you'll pick off a few trout! Tight lines all!<br />
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<br />Montana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-70650048910498307032013-11-17T10:27:00.001-08:002013-11-17T10:31:52.714-08:00Depuy Spring Creek 2013 VIDEO PLEASE WATCH IN 1080HD OR 720 FOR BEST QUALITY<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/rZ_10kkU7V0?list=UU1EY9mEpI3hIs-2FHd8W2Aw" width="480"></iframe>Montana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-87377793621304114512013-11-13T10:46:00.001-08:002013-11-20T09:59:01.612-08:00Depuy Spring Creek Trip Fall 2013<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnie88qOJbPkPOCf8yTzdCowHVVbW87TwAe6LjN0gtJCoZr5sz90qGoKKwgiPl05mVULmWIsF6YPZJtWMdKaGKQ16nuxqwek8jXkhgegn1PheQMzPWK02UD0Zdv-Ypq8x9GINQnKvdV0dR/s1600/1470056_10201690368759043_696481331_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnie88qOJbPkPOCf8yTzdCowHVVbW87TwAe6LjN0gtJCoZr5sz90qGoKKwgiPl05mVULmWIsF6YPZJtWMdKaGKQ16nuxqwek8jXkhgegn1PheQMzPWK02UD0Zdv-Ypq8x9GINQnKvdV0dR/s320/1470056_10201690368759043_696481331_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXuYYQ_YRZO7EuMKxebE6J6o6vOl1RvmwWpbJUDRZGfaeMZzh9zlMFx05iSnXldCvU31RoUB0vQ8Yk2mwiLGO9of9kTRZ3MPr0Szv8GkUu3yLTpDHDSxIFd3gX10uFlIB5b0kJkur7fLg2/s1600/depuys+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXuYYQ_YRZO7EuMKxebE6J6o6vOl1RvmwWpbJUDRZGfaeMZzh9zlMFx05iSnXldCvU31RoUB0vQ8Yk2mwiLGO9of9kTRZ3MPr0Szv8GkUu3yLTpDHDSxIFd3gX10uFlIB5b0kJkur7fLg2/s320/depuys+8.jpg" width="320" /></a> Depuy Spring Creek is a special place that I previously blogged about before. It has made a deep impression on my soul that will last my entire life. When I tell people that I have fished or am on my way to fish the creek, their eyes light up with envy and excitement. Depuy's is known for its three mile stretch of gin clear spring water that flows right along side of the mighty Yellowstone river and holds some of the biggest fish in the area. A beautiful back drop of the Absaroka mountains poise just a few miles away. Mountain lions wolves and grizzly bears stroll the perimeter with golden and bald eagles overhead. Since this is private land, only sixteen rods per day are aloud on the property. When full, every fisherman can easily find his or her own hole or stretch to fish in solitude. A day at Depuys has this level of prestige over other bodies of water and every angler that fishes it has their game plan likely anticipated days before their visit.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfAryZv835ylmFwOfyf4PtvYBKhQksKiv6kdkXIaISxmUaZOKBDylWnls3za27ERtdZU6pgC_H5l-FnDB97-xkyYti0vwc8Lx5OkhSc2OwjvV9Mk-pHoFgfRQMlZ3ottBK2qDOP6eIGhm/s1600/depuys+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfAryZv835ylmFwOfyf4PtvYBKhQksKiv6kdkXIaISxmUaZOKBDylWnls3za27ERtdZU6pgC_H5l-FnDB97-xkyYti0vwc8Lx5OkhSc2OwjvV9Mk-pHoFgfRQMlZ3ottBK2qDOP6eIGhm/s320/depuys+6.jpg" width="240" /></a> Being a spring creek, like I mentioned in my previous article, the fish are exceptionally more difficult to catch than the local rivers. The water is so clear that the wiser fish can see you coming from ten meters away and are very weary and decisive before they accept any given fly. My flies of choice for this trip were the very common egg pattern and blue midge nymph. The brown trouts spawn was finishing up, but most resident trout will likely take an egg pattern any time of the year. I fished the creek two consecutive <br />
Saturdays as the first Saturday was so incredible, I had to go back for more! The weather the second day was much cooler but non the less it very beautiful. Within minutes of stepping into the creek one of my friends hooked into the biggest trout of his life; a brilliant and lavish twenty two inch mighty brown trout. This fish had a grand kype and notable colors of browns and orange hues. Its places and days like these that impact the soul so deeply to the passionate fly fisherman. This allure is what will keep us coming back to the rivers edge for as long as we can walk upright.<br />
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The creek has warming huts throughout its property with wood burning stoves to take shelter from the elements. This second particular day was very windy. After Mason hooked into his trophy and a few more fish that we each landed, we retreated to the hut named "Evas" for lunch and discussion. Its important to take a break, whether its on the creek bank, in a car, or in a warming hut to reflect on the days efforts. Theres never a need to rush these waters but to instead let them remain quiet and flow with peace as one is slaying <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9SlKb-m8QQO_Z4UOcEsY4kUDTrLQrDTL2d90BnndQQHgi7mXupdX05mX-tzpDH6D02-oR7zTTxdUh0RJ6yq3hewlbllgyqvTi5GDF9hQcwfAsxTB1keHJS3QLhDR4PnqmfqB3yJwhaeT-/s1600/depuys+7+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9SlKb-m8QQO_Z4UOcEsY4kUDTrLQrDTL2d90BnndQQHgi7mXupdX05mX-tzpDH6D02-oR7zTTxdUh0RJ6yq3hewlbllgyqvTi5GDF9hQcwfAsxTB1keHJS3QLhDR4PnqmfqB3yJwhaeT-/s320/depuys+7+-+Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eva's Hut</td></tr>
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the trout. The fish will remain hungry and need time to, in a sense, forget about the fisherman that are so hastily trying to hook them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0lnRQjgW6VRlthYbdkOaBX8oYl5F8BjUQBuvv1FIzeTpwNBYI9LpMcMc4xwbubwPXvgzfXCQ0Jv5O_6_167wIU-Tm0DCJ9jwsNf3V_XgU-SGfCnGAqwcA5tXPSGqcrJO0T3frbIQV2raC/s1600/1452378_10201663830535604_1347008553_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0lnRQjgW6VRlthYbdkOaBX8oYl5F8BjUQBuvv1FIzeTpwNBYI9LpMcMc4xwbubwPXvgzfXCQ0Jv5O_6_167wIU-Tm0DCJ9jwsNf3V_XgU-SGfCnGAqwcA5tXPSGqcrJO0T3frbIQV2raC/s320/1452378_10201663830535604_1347008553_n.jpg" width="320" /></a> The first Saturday this fall, and the day that I made the video from, was a phenomenal day. My friend and I caught over thirty fish ranging from fourteen to twenty inches. My hand was cramped and my arm was sore after hauling in fish after fish. The same goes for this second outing. The fish were slamming our flies, sometimes taking off with runs going twenty feet or more in just a few seconds against our drag. The quiet, almost lifeless looking water, would erupt into madness as eighteen inches of trout dances athwart the surface of the water with a life or death attitude. The excitement we had is enough to hoot and holler down to the next guy as he intends to land what could be a personal best. Often times we had two fish being fought <br />
simultaneously and we needed to talk to each other so our trout wouldn't get muddled and twisted together.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSxYe_ckNoH7sDD1qcy2UB-Go3B08VXqzpHiXUrWw31752ln1U8fbp9JwFZsq5y025GwqzPBBSw26j8CuSvlo0C2FLR0iv53LW3zv18pJqrV73hL77fxdc4emskq1o_gcor6fN72fLYohT/s1600/734078_10201690370279081_1112448005_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSxYe_ckNoH7sDD1qcy2UB-Go3B08VXqzpHiXUrWw31752ln1U8fbp9JwFZsq5y025GwqzPBBSw26j8CuSvlo0C2FLR0iv53LW3zv18pJqrV73hL77fxdc4emskq1o_gcor6fN72fLYohT/s200/734078_10201690370279081_1112448005_n.jpg" width="200" /></a> On the second trip the wind was pounding us towards the end of the day. I had caught enough fish, big ones, that I was overly satisfied. We made our way up to the top stretch of the creek near the fly shop. I enjoyed the company of fishing my last few casts with a group of swans. I also enjoyed watching my buddies land their last trout of the day. I'm not sure if we caught more on the second trip or not but it really doesnt matter. I was starting to get spoiled. A lot of hard work was involved so It felt well earned. Catching high numbers of quality fish only fortifies my beliefs that I am getting to be a better fisherman. Everyday we learn something new so when that problem occurs next time we know how to handle it thus landing one more trout.<br />
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PLEASE CHECK OUT THE VIDEO FROM THIS ARTICLE IN THE POST ABOVE THIS -MontanaTroutFishingMontana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-38103537986799819152013-11-03T14:27:00.002-08:002014-05-27T07:17:37.014-07:00Upper Madison River at Valley Garden Fishing Access, Ennis MT October 19th 2013 is a day I wont forget for a long time. My friends and I had sacrificed sleeping in to get up early and hit the water as soon as the sun came up. We werent even 5 minutes from leaving Bozeman when a one hundred and sixty pound white tail buck ran right in front of us. We hit him, and hit him hard, killing the massive buck instantly. My buddy (along with the rest of us) were so shook up that he wanted to get his truck looked at. This was the first time I've ever been in a car that hit a deer.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">US 84 outside of Bozeman, Tobacco Root Mountains</td></tr>
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So now its seven in the morning and the other guy and myself still wanted to fish. The destination was Valley Garden fishing access near Ennis, Montana. It was about a forty-five minute drive from Bozeman and the sun was coming up fast. We drove forward hoping not to hit another deer. The drive on US 84 from Bozeman is gorgeous. Just after Four Corners you cross the Gallatin River. Climbing up a few gradual hills gives way to a spectacular view of the Madison and Tobacco Root mountains as you make your way to the Lower Madison River and Bear Trap Canyon, another great destination I previously blogged about. After meandering through tight corners in the canyon, in which you drive among, show off a stunning view of high mountain peaks to monotonous plains You then climb an imperceptibly steep pass that parallels the historical Bozeman Trail. Reaching the top of the pass gives one an incredible view of the Madison Valley. The amount of space viewable seems endless. Ennis lake lies in the distance to the east below the immense Madisons, and the Tobacco Roots smash right up to the foothills a mile away to the west. Passing the small town of Mcallister there is a short drive to the old town of Ennis. Ennis has a lot of character and some great stores, including a fly shop and Shedhorn Sports, for anyone visiting the town. I recommend stopping at the Ennis Cafe for a pre-fishing breakfast or post fishing lunch.<br />
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After leaving Ennis, you drive towards West Yellowstone for about one mile, driving from the main street which is only a few blocks long . You will see a sign for Valley Garden fishing access and take a left hand turn there. The road follows massive benches and the scenery continues. The huge peaks of the Madisons hang over you to your right. You journey through the small one horse town of Jeffers and five more minutes you've reached Valley Garden fishing access site.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxzGzwBo14B-gXsvW9XhHhz_LK2G3wAGh7XhTdrikvJiWbGoQk_6cFFN-7TBxmKNTIrCd1iHV_YupJ2Uljwj0wu41ZOt1lehL5sHBcWuqIQ25XrBfiDjtYyrQkv6ChqP8sfQJfCnfsYVdo/s1600/1381939_10201490577244380_1434887601_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxzGzwBo14B-gXsvW9XhHhz_LK2G3wAGh7XhTdrikvJiWbGoQk_6cFFN-7TBxmKNTIrCd1iHV_YupJ2Uljwj0wu41ZOt1lehL5sHBcWuqIQ25XrBfiDjtYyrQkv6ChqP8sfQJfCnfsYVdo/s200/1381939_10201490577244380_1434887601_n.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a> There is sign with a board full of camping information and hunting restrictions. There is a small parking area there with a trail leading to that part of the river. You can instead keep going to what looks like campsites but there is a bigger parking lot and boat launch there. There is an outhouse at this location.<br />
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I like to walk down river from here about a mile or so. I've seen people walk much further down than I have, possibly to get away from what some solitude hunters would call a crowd. I was surprised to see another person fishing between the islands, then on the way back we saw a few more, but nothing crazy. There was definitely plenty of water for everyone. I like to hike down and fish back up, taking my time fishing and walking to all the islands that are scattered throughout the river. The Upper Madison here seems like half a mile wide sometimes. Its huge!! Much of the water in the fall will be ankle to knee deep so finding the fish means finding the deeper holes, pools, and runs. This involves a lot of walking unless you know the good spots. Ill let you figure those out ;) The scenery in the river itself is absolutely outstanding. I havent fished a prettier place in Montana than at Valley Garden. The fishing the day I was there was spectacular. Easily a twenty fish day. My friend, who had hit the deer, had a fifty fish day the weekend before.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here you can see several islands scattered through this section of the Upper Madison<br />
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The islands attract a lot of the trout along with the side shoots between the islands and the bank. This particular day I was using a double eggy rig. Thats right, I had two of the same flies on my leader. The fall brown trout spawn was underway and the fish go crazy for eggys. Why not use two I figured? Well it paid off. I managed to hook into a very nice brown trout in a micro hole and he lept, and lept again. I kept looking at my buddy with such excitement every time this football sized trout jumped into the air. He ended up burying himself in some very thick moss. When I went to retrieve I made the mistake of grabbing the leader with my hand and he broke right off. I saw him and so did my friend so I felt a lot better about losing him. The amount of fish in this section is very high. Most are small trout ten to twelve inches, and a lot of them, but there surely are trophies to be caught here.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0GanImHFbWtNy1fDCN7XJnwB3-isbNy8OVteG5_4_Gwb-eGhz1h-r77TwEuFc2bQmwFonR2H-8qKS7fvn7XUw96RyKgyYTUbqPafYY1ybqaTBcWOr3ugUuq2J_x_enkqA65ijlKeVsjCS/s1600/1377392_10201473174609325_702998092_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0GanImHFbWtNy1fDCN7XJnwB3-isbNy8OVteG5_4_Gwb-eGhz1h-r77TwEuFc2bQmwFonR2H-8qKS7fvn7XUw96RyKgyYTUbqPafYY1ybqaTBcWOr3ugUuq2J_x_enkqA65ijlKeVsjCS/s320/1377392_10201473174609325_702998092_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhiCsVnP2cGYYXBdGzxS3plWjVJoQj4uTyQDTXDUHYtVIzNUgsxFo6C0Fprd1rjP1pnpE18EwEnYa3ZGlUs1XoIyacKWSTbbh6ZBLmutoZYIUyh7iGhYF8hyHQ2JE17eiluRUQH1tlM3O4/s1600/1395256_10201473174969334_313474194_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a> I will return to Valley Garden, maybe in the spring next year. Its an easy drive and like I said the view alone is enough to leave the skunked angler very satisfied. The long distances between what seems like one shallow riffle requires a lot of leg work but when you do find deep water, the fish are stacked in there. I hope this has encouraged someone who is unfamiliar with the area to give it a try. There are so many great fishing areas in SW Montana that many unknown gems like this will never be fished by some. Happy fishing and tight lines to all!<br />
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Montana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-39237985717652361792013-11-03T13:33:00.001-08:002021-03-30T08:24:07.606-07:00Back from Elk Hunt I'd like to make this post short and sweet as this is a fishing blog. So I am back from spending my first days ever at a Montana elk camp. My dad did a wonderful job scouting and setting up a great place for us to retreat to after each full day of hard work looking for big game.<br />
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I spent four days in the Patosi Canyon in the Tobacco Root Mountains. We worked very hard, some days walking more than ten miles in pursuit of the herd. On the last day I wanted to focus on getting a mule deer so I didn't come back to civilization empty handed. Long story short I shot my five point muley within the last hour of my visit at elk camp. The experience was incredible because not only was it the first deer I've ever taken, but also the amount of work I put into getting him.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEEbvmAromljl750qPVyohyphenhyphenyNdKL6uFG8VBV5vZbNRKa3acReIvjZ91JNR2pnoJRzsO_iF39KfsDHXsjX5pIBr_cbV6_Cjbe-lwkYuvjFgX6HhMgSnFVkyfBzRUWvtpuU1IeX0OarUGsXF/s1600/first+montana+mule+deer+2013.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEEbvmAromljl750qPVyohyphenhyphenyNdKL6uFG8VBV5vZbNRKa3acReIvjZ91JNR2pnoJRzsO_iF39KfsDHXsjX5pIBr_cbV6_Cjbe-lwkYuvjFgX6HhMgSnFVkyfBzRUWvtpuU1IeX0OarUGsXF/s320/first+montana+mule+deer+2013.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfWTMA1Ilkf0uNUeORRXXpuTlUF3d2PaDzPyJ30hyCPDrNThkU_Ud9gGKkt_h3AVzIlxu3fexQTbURj_-lV2Q0N3ZTbJRtvoyVMl-9OMNuSkjNVYvrJs7K3ohjs2-5Jp-5d9M0KivJaqYA/s1600/patosi+creek+2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfWTMA1Ilkf0uNUeORRXXpuTlUF3d2PaDzPyJ30hyCPDrNThkU_Ud9gGKkt_h3AVzIlxu3fexQTbURj_-lV2Q0N3ZTbJRtvoyVMl-9OMNuSkjNVYvrJs7K3ohjs2-5Jp-5d9M0KivJaqYA/s320/patosi+creek+2.jpg" width="240" /></a> I did bring my four weight fly rod. Okuma 8'6 rod with an Okuma S/4 reel. I caught trout for dinner one night and we enjoyed them after very hard days in tough country. The fishing was wonderful for such a small creek. Patosi creek was the source, you can google it on google earth. I believe this creek is overlooked and under-fished. I was surprised of the size of the rainbows I was pulling out. The morning I went to catch dinner was very cold, probably 26-30 degrees. We were the only ones in the canyon at the time. Like I've mentioned so many times, the solitude of having a body of water to yourself is priceless, and I was catching trout! Big trout! These fish were surprisingly 13-14 inches long. They made for a wonderful, moral boosting, dinner that night!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBxyHTu7uNi2kzNV3Gpla6VFnjQ-CP8sP_lMtoeBj2LayO6rdM9OF7wLVaXq4PJrCAhr3lAfRl8qzHtf3HkDF5T5N5pgfx3oov146RBsD_SFMP2qxc3dMv9AUHx0SYjqom2H9b51XFOLug/s1600/patosi+trout.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBxyHTu7uNi2kzNV3Gpla6VFnjQ-CP8sP_lMtoeBj2LayO6rdM9OF7wLVaXq4PJrCAhr3lAfRl8qzHtf3HkDF5T5N5pgfx3oov146RBsD_SFMP2qxc3dMv9AUHx0SYjqom2H9b51XFOLug/s200/patosi+trout.jpg" width="200" /></a> So all in all it was a great hunting trip. My friend shot a black bear and I got my mule deer. We were in the presence of several moose and many other types of wildlife. We saw no elk but elk arent easy to hunt!<br />
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I am back to MontanaTroutFishing and will provide my service for all of those who wish to seek it. I am however still grouse hunting so If anybody has any questions or would like to share stories or see pictures please, email me at norbaracer13@hotmail.com<br />
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<br />Montana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997272581405682345.post-89995307280750458312013-10-23T23:44:00.002-07:002013-10-23T23:45:15.483-07:00Elk Season, Will Return : ? Hey viewers It's elk season here in Montana. The opening weekend is the 26th and 27th. I have been distracted from fishing and fly tying the last week because I have been TOTALLY STOKED about the hunting season making way. Prepping and being mentally distracted along with the hunt itself is going to put me off of this site for at least a week. I tend to pursue elk throughout the whole season so I apologize if I am not back on in a month.<br />
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If you don't hunt but are still going to fish all winter long I will try to provide condition reports from local fly stores. If you're a beginner, I'd like to say keep at it! I hope my page has helped every novice that views my site. Good luck and may your fly line always have a tug!<br />
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Montana Trout Fishinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13012973502326537310noreply@blogger.com0